Tag Archives: Books

Peddler

The travelling man’s bags were filled to overflowing, and although our mothers turned their noses up, we children recognised the smell of adventure. The cheap baubles were gems from Persia where the king was called the Shah and women wore … Continue reading

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Catching My Breath

He stood outside. We’d had a fight, a bad one. I was visiting him in New York. I’d said terrible things. We spent that day walking, trying to find familiar ground. Trying to make it alright Without words. I love … Continue reading

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