This week two f**king poems about cats; next week one poem about Two Cats F**king.
You take the Low Road, I’ll take the High Road, and I’ll get to Loch Munchie before thee . . .
A short story about the memories a beautiful summer can bring.
It’s only with hindsight that I realise what a ‘playground‘ London was for me from the mid-eighties (when becoming old enough to do as I pleased) to the late nineties; when changes started running so deep they were impossible to miss and/or ignore.
How positive reviews for self-publishing services and products are easily obtained without being genuine and neither an outright lie:
