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The Girl in the Red Towel
From the minute she placed one, inelegant, bare foot on the restaurant steps, she was bound to be caught. Not everyone could see her as yet. The crowded, Portuguese/Italian, restaurant spanned two streets with an entrance set at either end. Long and narrow, it afforded a central rite of passage, flanked by tables spreading out each side and set between tall pillars. We heard, rather than saw her entrance. The girl was apparently falling down the steps judging from the kerfuffle around her. A low murmur erupted from those tables closest. Hidden behind our own pillar, we waited. Muted murmurings reached us from the inner sanctum of the restaurant. Her…
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Sweeping away the Cobwebs
‘tis a wonderous thing, writing. I am now, perhaps, three fifths of the way towards the completion of my latest novel. This is the novel written entirely in November under the strict, “no edit” instructions of NaNoWriMo. December arrived in a flurry of festivities, the New Year with more of the same (including the unfortunate incident with the sausage). There was barely time to sit back and ponder the niceties of sentence structure or plot continuity and no time at all to contemplate denouement. So, with unfinished chapters and unanswered questions, ringing in my ears, I put the novel to one side and concentrated on family and friends. A break…
