Sunday, April 19, 2009

The threads of a day

At breakfast my mind wandered away from the cereal packets: the day seemed to me like a loom with a variegated pattern growing into a chaotic and bright cloth. A background of deep green grass with white bobbles of ducks preening. Bright threads of children’s voices in azure and pink making a continuous stream of chatter, zigzagging and flowing through the duller muted greys and blues of a soft

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