Later, perhaps, we'd eat a square of dark chocolate - I'd read a long mysterious serpent of a sentence by John Cowper Powys - I'd look at one of Jane's beautiful paintings, remembering her sketching in her garden, the wicked taste of fig and whisky marmalade -
Now, I thought, I would measure out my time in tender pleasures - here was one to start with -
So there I was, lifting my glass before a fragrant fire, listening to late night jazz, some gentle Coltrane, then tasting chocolate melting upon my tongue -
My crocked back was getting better too -
Late evening
January 13 2014
The Old School House
East Stoke
Isle of Purbeck
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