Is that the sound of breaking glass, and do I hear
diggers driving over my grass. Now they are pulling
out my door, if they go any further one might fall through
the floor. First the windows then the roof, why do those
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And so your trilogy is completed with the inevitable destruction of your lonely house. You have described it with great depth of feeling and honesty. Such a sad poem. love, Allie xxxxxxxxx
I was expecting some kind of happy reprieve but alas, it was not to be. This is real life and no holds barred stuff. A great trilogy, Sylvie. Love, Fran xxx (Speak soon)