The Institution, or Sometimes You Don’t Know You’re Being Held It is a symbiosis, this thing. This mad, lifelong, love affair that has raged across the shores of time; that has as often been tempest as drought. That has somehow kept out elements of undoing, of easy leaving. A force that has not been quelled, […]
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Hilary He felt the spade bite under his boot and promptly applied extra weight to get greater depth out of his effort. He withdrew and entered again at right angles. Thrust, push, bite, deepen, withdraw. And again at the other end. Flip the sod. Move along the line. Repeat the process. The metronome clicked in
No man is an island, Entire of itself. Each is a piece of the continent, A part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less. As well as if a promontory were. As well as if a manor of thine own Or of thine friend’s were. Each
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