Tag Archives: Ghost Stories
A remembrance of the time past
At the end of a distorted path along the cliff of the Brittany coast just before the Chanel turns to be the Atlantic Ocean. As accounted by my Granny, way back then in the days, without many motorcades and a … Continue reading →
The Pink China
Pink china is a Michael obsession whenever he has a date. Sophie has been working all morning in the kitchen. “It smells good in here,” I say. “Make sure the maids use pink china for tonight’s dinner.” “A special request?” … Continue reading →