... For Home Is A Magnet That

The Certainty That She Would Find What It Was She Sought Just Slipped Away, Until One Night She Knew There Was Nothing, No One Waiting For Her. That No Matter How Far She Walked, How Carefully She Searched, How Much She Wanted To Find The Person She Was Looking For, She Was Alone" - The Forgotten Garden

My Fingers Positively Itched To Drift At Length Along Their Spines, To Arrive At One Whose Lure I Could Not Pass, To Pluck It Down, To Inch It Open, Then To Close My Eyes And Inhale The Soul-sparking Scent Of Old And Literate Dust.

Children Don’t Require Of Their Parents A Past And They Find Something Faintly Unbelievable, Almost Embarrassing, In Parental Claims To A Prior Existence.

Gerry?' Laurel Had To Strain To Hear Thought The Noise On The Other End Of The Line. 'gerry? Where Are You?' 'london. A Phone Booth On Fleet Street.' 'the City Still Has Working Phone Booths?' 'it Would Appear So. Unless This Is The Tardis, In Which Case I'm In Serious Trouble.

She'd Slept Terribly The Night Before. The Room, The Bed, Were Both Comfortable Enough, But She'd Been Plagued With Strange Dreams, The Sort That Lingered Upon Waking But Slithered Away From Memory As She Tried To Grasp Them. Only The Tendrils Of Discomfort Remained.