Red tree, green olive

Welcome to the evening. Dry yourself off from the river. Here, join me. Read this book.

Drink a dry dirty gin martini with a green olive, and listen to this.

And my day, dear? I am trying to be heroic in a world of modernity. Oh yes, oh yes, she sings as she walks through muddy bridlepaths at lunchtime in the Green Flash trainers that have her name in them from kit check when she was thirteen getting dirt on her tights and squashing a poppy between her fingers so that they smell of cut runner beans. Oh yes, oh yes, I am heroic romantic pathetic and now rather hungry so back for my sardine sandwich.