
Fiction
Summer Magic
By Joan Farnell With a whirring of wings the pigeon took to the air, startled by the crunching of my feet on the gravel path. It was quiet here underneath the trees in Foxes Forest. [… read more ]
By Joan Farnell With a whirring of wings the pigeon took to the air, startled by the crunching of my feet on the gravel path. It was quiet here underneath the trees in Foxes Forest. [… read more ]
In this period of fickle weather, Portsmouth resident Joan Farnell reflects on the heat, rain and creepy crawlies of Pakistan, where she used to live. The figurine of a little painted elephant took my thoughts [… read more ]
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