In The Apple Tree

Memories are made of these


She has a face that would brook no argument of mine
Indeed, she has no face for you at all.
No sir, she has a face that is like an open book
That shuts itself when e’er you look
I do say that is a Facebook.

Examination of the manuscript, from which the above is taken, suggests it is indeed Shakespeare’s unfinished Thirteenth Night.

About Me

An elephant run wild, drunk on rum, calls for a female without hope of being understood. What to do? It is not 1947 now.


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