Sublime

pointing her knitting-needle at little Lucie as if it were the finger of Fate.

Somewhere in Aldleigh James Bower was taking off his tie, and pouring himself a glass of wine – in fact (Thomas smiled at his own foolishness) there was Maria, look, there she was, having clambered out of the shopping trolley and abandoned Dimi on the Lowlands lawn, and wandered down Lower Bridge Road. She leaned against the doorframe admiring the

He was but a poor man himself, said Peggotty, but as good as gold and as true as steel—those were her similes.

Acid Pops.

Sylvia D’Agostino Born 1958 in Leith, Scotland, the daughter of Eduardo D’Agostino, the poet.

‘Aparecium!’