‘Sometimes, when I finish typing a sentence I like, I flick my hand up from the keyboard like a pianist at the end of a piece.
But this was not one of those times.’
‘Sometimes, when I finish typing a sentence I like, I flick my hand up from the keyboard like a pianist at the end of a piece.
But this was not one of those times.’
America anatomy army art books children China cricket crime death drink education film finance food France haiku health history literature London men micro-fiction micro-non-fiction money music Nelson Evening Mail non-fiction novels photography Poetry politics religion satire sex Sri Lanka Sunday Times (SL) theartsdesk The Critic The Oldie The Pikey Laureate TV war women writing
Post a Comment