The gulls. The gulls have returned with the rain. Random bits of the house knocked on and bullied in case they’re maybe food now.
Still just a garage roof, Mr Gull. He squints at me with inhuman rage.
The gulls. The gulls have returned with the rain. Random bits of the house knocked on and bullied in case they’re maybe food now.
Still just a garage roof, Mr Gull. He squints at me with inhuman rage.