rask_balavoine
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My stories
Dusk and wine.
Late this afternoon, as dusk was starting to gather, I took myself out into the back garden with a bottle of red Lebanese wine. A mild winter...
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- 388 reads
Dread December.
I can sense dread December about to roll in, and you can too I suspect. In rolling in it will obnubilate the soft November memories that I’m...
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- 240 reads
Lying in Lissadell.
There's an old log that lies rotting on the shore at Lissadell, right where the shingle meets the fields. It's lain there for as long as I've been...
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- 238 reads
November graveyard with a robin.
The sun shone on the snow-covered graveyard this afternoon, a place where the atmosphere was heavy with memories, sadness, longing and hope. Beside...
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- 309 reads
My spot.
A man with unruly blond hair and a ginger beard was sitting in my spot when I entered the cafe today. Moreover, the lout had his feet up on the seat...
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- 213 reads