Summary
I STAND here naked, colossal and bronze, not born of the womb but formed and cast fully-grown by a creator long dead. I am a sentinel who never sleeps, unyielding to the weather, a constant observer of the ever-changing society of transient short-lived folk whose lives are tragically as permanent as an April morning frost.
I stand here high above you, watching mortals come and go; and they think I'm just a statue, but only Dickie Lewis knows.See the full content of this document
Extract
Tales From the Past
My graven eyes have beheld all of your lives, and I have so much to tell. Here's a tale... The sweet vermillion lips of autumn had caressed Liverpo...
See the full content of this document
Sponsored links
