I'm reading Face of the Waters - sitting before the log fire, with the book open before me, I'm transported far away from the quiet valley -
I'm reminded that within me, hidden deeply away, is a desire to be a rogue - I remember dancing in a shebeen, reeling into a private club -
Looking at myself in the mirror, I see myself wreathed in smoke - I can hear my name being called - a small hand clasps my wrist -
22.45
February 9 2015
The Old School House
East Stoke
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