Thursday 10th March 2011
Poor Little Rich Gays normally dread sunshine in the home. It blasts to the fore every speck of dust. But this blue-white Spring light at close of day is so cleansing, better than Windolene. Suddenly I am filled with the radiance of a right home. Just for once, my home is right, not cracked nor scuffed nor stained nor worse than other homes, especially Robert Nevil and Sebastian Archer’s.
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