Yesterday I had an assignation at Liverpool Street Station in London with a man I’d never met before called Dan (at least that what he said his name was). We agreed to meet at 11.30 BST. He said I’d recognise him by the flowers and the gentle aroma of garlic. How he was going to identify me we didn’t establish. Gave me plenty of get out but not him. Fortunately there aren’t that many people just standing looking like they are waiting for a man bearing a wild garlic plant at that time of day –most people are [...]

Continue reading Under the clock,with the flowers