Most are small chapbooks. One features a bit of stuck-on sandpaper. The results are startling yet inconclusive. Key exudes a powerful whiff of industrial archaeology, a wistful air of crumbling nostalgia. He may even conceivably be writing steampunk.
Arms gesticulate in enthused manner.
The glands of the investing tissue secrete lime and deposit it always submerged. These arrest the spat at the moment of emission. They detach with a hook the piles covered with fascines and branches, if we can use the term, buried in the sands or mud, their polypiferous portion sallying into the water. 103 Cavendish Road, Highams Park, London, E4 9NG, England. It is all very British somehow.