The sun burnt on, drugging everything with warmth.

Emotions weren't like washing. There was no call to peg them out for all the world to view.

The older one becomes the quicker the present fades into sepia and the past looms up in glorious technicolour

Moonlight lined the windowsills like a fall of snow.

Once the grammar has been learned, writing is simply talking on paper and in time learning what not to say.

What we remember is probably fiction anyway.

It is the generation of the unemphatic. Steal, kill, lie, fornicate, but beware of indulging with conviction.