Tonight I have three messages to send. One is a message of thanks, one a message of loathing, and the third a wordless appreciation of a vision – a picture of grace, charm and loveliness so eloquently entrancing that the imps themselves would quake at the prospect of interfering. (Although I expect they would still do so anyway.)
It’s hard having eventually to be anaesthetized by the cold light of harmless realism.
And it’s been ages since I had the wherewithal to be cryptic, but it’s also been quite a while since I saw something glint.