May, 2013

 

Sunday nights are the quietest on Chestnut Grove. The bustle of the week – that triumvirate of commuters, school children and drunken revellers all jabbering away as they pass outside at their allotted times, as well as the buzz of planes overhead, the unharmonious discord between trains and traffic, and the yell and pelt of the footballers on the court across the way – has, come the evening of the Sabbath, given way to a funereal silence.... Read More