Inspiration... perspiration... I need a story...
Sometimes it's a dream - literally - that starts the journey. Or, in this case, two. And they don't even belong to the same person, the dreams and the journeys are different.
One fine evening, looking for a place to stay in a quiet little town, I was driving down a gentle slope towards some houses in the sunshine in my trusty old black ford popular.
As the car gathered speed gently downhill, I noticed that the brakes didn't work, and suddenly I was scared but when I saw the reason why they no longer worked, I was enthralled... every part of the car broke into a cloud of birds, small birds, all shapes and colours and voices, fluttering, sweeping, swooping, whistling, squawking, chattering, that slowly dissipated into the shadows around me and beyond into the glowing sunset.
