I search the garden, behind every bush and tree trunk, in among the trellises of cascading beans and peas, all the places a precocious six-year-old would deem a magical queendom. She wasn’t in her bedroom or the den, not lurking in the ghostly shadows of the infinite corridor, so the garden is the only place […]
Tag: Dolls
Tree-house Terror
I search all round the garden; she wasn’t in her bedroom or the den, not lurking in the ghostly shadows of the infinite corridor. I cross the lawn, enter the copse behind the hedge covered with yesterday’s washing: sheets, pillowcases pinned to twigs instead of using washing pegs. Branches rustle, I hear giggling from the […]
writing in north norfolk 