“The heat is pressing in on us; a solid, slippery thing. I feel like I could cut it with a butter knife. The noise, rich smells and visual abundance of the souk have blurred into irrelevance because I am wholly focused on Spike and his distress.”
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“Coronavirus cast its shadow over our chalk-edged island. WhatsApp groups thrummed with digital missives speculating about an Italian-style lockdown and my heart sank. Of all the Italian-style things I enjoy (coffee, ice cream, salad dressing), stringent lockdown measures are way down the list.”