I Have To Write The Story I

And As She Jogged Out Of Sight, They Could Hear Her Muttering, "tentacula. Devil's Snare. And Snargaluff Pods. Yes, I'd Like To See Death Eaters Fighting Those.

He Lay Face Down, Listening To The Silence. He Was Perfectly Alone. Nobody Was Watching. Nobody Else Was There. He Was Not Perfectly Sure That He Was There Himself.

The Idea That We Could Have A Child Who Escapes From The Confines Of The Adult World And Goes Somewhere Where He Has Power, Both Literally And Metaphorically, Really Appealed To Me.

Autumn Seemed To Arrive Suddenly That Year. The Morning Of The First September Was Crisp And Golden As An Apple.

Writing And Cafes Are Strongly Linked In My Brain.