I know, memory plays tricks and the tales of an old man may no longer be recognisably connected with the deeds of his youth. Yet surely I am not yet that old!

A book has been published, a story told. All in a volume slim enough to be a book of poetry, but what hint of the higher arts did I find?
Yes the reader will be able to gain some insight into the mind of the artist and see them at work so it is no bad thing. But frankly there is too much climbing in and out of bedroom windows for my taste. In fact looking back I feel that perhaps young Benor has some sort of deep seated issue with windows, when he’s not climbing through them he’s throwing people out of them. Perhaps that is why Shena insisted he sleep outside on the deck?

But still…