Rumours that the stranger was a spy grew quickly but actually he turned out to be a friendly and well-natured hobbyist with a love of aircraft.
One moment she was there, the next she wasn’t.
There’s a shadow on my wall and no matter what I do it won’t go away.
The tree stood still with the ghosts of all those had been hanged there drifting forever around it’s tangled limbs.
The only thing Sundays are good for is laying in bed, reading books and drinking tea.
She was drifting on a sea of dreams to lands unknown.
Logophile; a lover of words.
He loved words. They were his passion, life, work and ultimately his untimely death.
He wanted to write, but his hands weren’t working.
She locked all their technology away and declared they were going to have a family fun day.