Frances Carter, 7 december 2011
You say "I love
you, boy"
I know you lie
I trust you all the same
I don't know why
'Cos when my back is turned
My bruises shine
Our broken fairytale
So hard to hide
“Dinah! Dinah! DINAH!!” The whispered yells echoed through
the croft. I shivered from my hiding place (... więcej)
Frances Carter, 7 december 2011
The first impression is of
darkness. Then the temperature hits you like a tonne of bricks. Stumbling,
lost, in an empty, lifeless forest at midnight on midwinter’s eve.
No sound, no smell, no taste. The
only feeling is of falling snow landing softly, threateningly; it wraps the
land in a freezing (... więcej)
Frances Carter, 7 december 2011
Holmes had had his head resting on my shoulder almost the entire train journey from Waterloo; he’d managed even to sleep on the tube between Baker Street and Waterloo, and the Jubilee Line is atrocious at the best of times.
The train had just begun to pull off from Basingstoke when his head (... więcej)
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