Monday, October 27, 2008
Dabbling in time is always a little odd. While I know that the market has always included St. Marples I also know, in that dim reality that may or may not still be a valid part of my past, that the place was a derelict wreck waiting for demolition.
It could send you mad, time travel. Never mind the concept of killing your own grandparents (one of the reasons we never let mortals dabble in it) the pure mind-boggling terror of having a different pen when you get back is enough to give you the willies.
Big news this morning is that someone has stolen the Laverstone Moore. It’s not the most well known sculpture of Henry Moore but it was part of the town and we loved it. It loosely depicted – and I say loosely in the broadest sense – the fairy Queen looking down over the town. It was constructed of black polished granite and stood – or rather sat – almost twelve feet high.
The really weird thing is Harold doesn’t remember the statue at all.