Walking the Dog
Chapter One It was a flat November morning, a morning when colours run and the mist hung in the jaws of the estuary above the liver-coloured flott. A slatternly wind was ruffling the tussocks of coarse grass that grew along the littoral, doing nothing to shift the grey curtain. The air smelt of salt and older, darker things. Even the normally raucous gulls were muted, their endless carping muffled by the damp air. No horizon was discernible. The sky coalesced into the iron water, leaching all...
Erotic