Jane's breath stung like fire on the way into her lungs and expelled like smoke as it departed her lips. There was a sharp bite waiting in the cold night air. Around her, shapes stalked in the shadows. Treacherously her imagination made them into frightening things, bears, wolves, ghosts. With a little bit of effort on her part, she reasoned the shapes back into the spare tractor wheel, a stack of hay and an engine draped in canvas. It was late autumn 1926 in Paddock Wood, Kent, England.
Cast Iron Crayfish on the Campfire
Cast Iron Crayfish on the Campfire. This recipe is from The Shoalhaven in Coastal South Eastern Australia. In early Autumn, we harvest olives by hand at our neighbour's orchid. It's after the heat of summer has broken, and the cicadas aren't so deafening. In the shade, we drink local wine instead of water and eat freshly baked bread with butter from the dairy farms on the ocean bluffs to the East. When we go home, it's with a mason jar of our very own glistening olive oil and a sway in our steps.
Too Many Lines.
Too Many Lines. By C.L.E Webster I have come to the conclusion that the only book that can contain my thoughts is a small hardy journal with no lines. Until I lost mine, I didn’t realise how inadequate other journals are.
Prologue Remembering Slim is the heartwarming tale of a bittersweet conversation in class. It is a picture book manuscript aimed at 4-8 year olds and the intellectual property of C.L.E Webster if you would like to represent this book please get in touch.
I am perfect… and there's only 100 of me. I’m the first though, and that's got to count for something, right? Every last nanometer of my genetic code was engineered to military-grade perfection. Not unlike every day of my childhood.