In the spring, during the night, you could hear the baby foxes’ cries, it sounded like slaughtering a baby.
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By Julie Morel. Posted 10 novembre 2000 at 13:39. Filed under In English, fiction and tagged fiction. Permalink. Subscribe to this post’s comments.
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The house kitchen was a big square room with a bow window on the huge beautiful messy garden. Looking outside was looking at every possible shades of green.
Inside, all was green too, and brown, and grey, and yellow.
A kitchen with plastic floor on one side of the room, and a living area on the other […]
One day, the heater in my room broke down and Yan and Mary told me they had to go to the vicar the next day: It was only 5 mns away from the house, they would show me where it was. On the way, they explained to me that he owned a few houses around […]