PORTRAITS IN PRINT: Beware of the Dog
... ($0^ fl _ brZ /h\ (o\ POKTKAITS nfrMK Beware of I lie Bog WHEN I first went to live in the town it was a smallish place sleeping (most of the time) under a rarely failing sun that had that somnolent warmth you also find in the back curve of a child's neck-- it smelt of golden motes that danced in purest light and sang a wordless song of purest happiness before vanishing to a purest heaven. On ...