Moving had been harder then I expected. You quickly forget the sweat, tiny cuts on your hands, broken possessions and heavy grunting from the last time you endured the task. However my new “across the hall” neighbour, Julian, at least provided entertainment by way of hilariously directing all furniture to the wrong rooms, then directing them back to the right rooms. Strangely, the men hired to move the furniture did not seem as amused as we were.
Once ensconced inside my new residence, I...
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I love the feelings evoked by the simple thought of Tuscany,
especially a Tuscan villa, a crumbling Tuscan villa,
covered in vines on top a hillside,
facing a medieval village in the hazy distance.
I love the thought of bohemians, the notion of bohemianism.
Swirling, random images of deep colours,
flowing clothes or conceptual nudity,
seductive conversations, drowning in Parisian creativity.
I love the idea of magic, the idea that it is real.
Powerful witches chanting in a hidden...
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I had two minutes to get to work on time. I opened the front door of my apartment to be greeted by the smiling face of my neighbour, Harry. Not noticing my harassed expression, Harry launched into a detailed story of his upset stomach, brought on by an Indian feast last night.
I smiled, mumbled responses and squeezed past him to the stairwell. Mrs Knightly, from three floors up, was on her way down the stairs. She was carrying a beach chair in one hand and a fluorescent green umbrella in the...
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