The Christchurch easterly pushed me effortlessly along the red cycleway. A morning mother was parked across it. I shimmied around her car, whizzing across the gutter-bridge into the traffic and then back around onto the cycleway. Meanwhile the driver got out and checked her letter box. I looked around, hoping to catch her eye reproachfully, but she did not see me.
It's such a marvellous word.
Ob-livi-ous.
Ninagawa's Hamlet (the eighth)
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There is a clutch of theatre directors routinely described as legendary, of
whom Yukio Ninagawa is one of the most loved. His work is heart-stoppingly
beau...
9 years ago
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