I want to talk. Want to ask Ian many questions. But the lyrics of the song are going round and round in my head. They make sense; then they don’t make sense. Hell, this whole day doesn’t make sense. The crowds slow the taxi as we get
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My feet are wet, almost as if I am barefooted walking in the Mersey in front of me. How did the Mersey end up in front of me? How did I end up here? There is menthol smoke blowing across my face and I become aware of
Read more →Fate, up against your will, through the thick and thin, he will wait until you give yourself to him. We are getting strange looks, the dozen or so of us standing in front of the row of shops spotlighted by lights from the newsagent’s and baker’s windows.
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