The Afghan (Pt 2)

The house was so well camouflaged that it was very hard to spot from outside, even in the leafless winter. But someone had. In the work I saw craft and skill. Not like the rough stilt house in the other bushes at Highfield, with its screws hammered in and planks of wood, protruding into obviousness. […]

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The Afghan (Pt 1)

I follow my daughter sometimes. She seems to have the sense to do what I want before I know I do. We were out with the dog in Highfield Park and as usual, wandering in the trees, chasing through the low branches. Avoiding getting whipped in the face by a carelessly released branchlet. Then she […]

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