It’s a Good Friday

Once upon a time, some dogs died. The young man left to take care of his master’s house locked the gate and disappeared. But he left the dogs.


Seasons of Time

It is raining again and I am thinking of seasons. And change. A month ago, thanks to the North Eastern Trade Winds blowing across the vast Sahara Desert (can’t resist a bit of Geography) we were roasting under the dry and dusty spell of the Harmattan winds.