This Too Shall Pass

literary agents UK

Traffic fumes and horns couldn’t be blocked out, even by the surly guard at The Resort Hotel. They drifted over him laughing, “You can’t catch me!”

I skirted the hotel restaurant, pristine chairs in place, table runners immaculate. Napkins rolled and caged in bamboo irons, aching to be set free and fluttered into laps. Their life cycle was to be gobbed on, washed and re-caged.

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