My walk down the lane tonight was accompanied by the gentle
coo-wicking of a tawny owl. The natural sounds of night always have something
splendidly primeval about them.
There was another moving shadow that wasn’t mine on the
hedge, but at least I worked out a possible – if unproven – rational explanation
for that one.
The Lady Bella has become silent, invisible and mysterious.
Or so it seems to me.
And I’m in a horribly doom-laden mood. I’m sure it must have
something to do with the dark of the moon, although a certain news item didn’t
help.
2 comments:
you'll never guess what I thought at first glance you had written; 'I'm in a horny, doom-laden mood.'
HE! HE! What would Freud-dude say?
You're doing that woman thing again, Bree. I call it the Anticipational Filter theory. Must discuss it with Siggy some time.
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