To the untidy end

When I was a kid, I often stayed in my grandparents’ manor house in England. It was a musty, falling-down place, lacking mains water or electricity. A shambles of soft floors and collapsing ceilings, of drafty corridors and mildew, of sooty chimneys, spiders, spook and shadow. I adored it. Continue reading “To the untidy end”


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