"Who's that in the photo?" Jemima asked?  

I looked, unsure; this was a photo of us in our lounge, just last week, my wife and I, and two daughters Amy and Jemima, but here in the photo was another, a boy, somewhere around 6 years old.  

My wife grabbed the picture from my hand, "It looks like you when you were young, you know, the picture we call Little Lord?"

I did know the one and she was right - that was me in the picture, but how was this possible?  I looked at…

I’ll say one thing about the Brits: they know how to queue, and this was no exception: a long, orderly queue that wound its way patiently down the stairs of the Institute. Many had camped overnight and now stood wearily with their gear at their side, staring out the vast, steel-framed windows at the lavish gardens outside, where a crystal-clear fountain beckoned invitingly.

At the front of the queue, a pair of elevator-like doors opened and closed regularly, accepting one person at a…

There was a young girl from Barcelona,

who wanted to be a blood donor.

When her father, a vampire,

discovered her desire,

alas he promptly disowned her.

The clear blue water glistened in the sun, a pool of sparkling diamonds beckoning me in.  I stood at the edge, sweat dripping from my brow, and then took the plunge.  Icy water enveloped me as my body glided through the water.  I was full of admiration at my streamlined physique, the muscles that rippled in the current, until I hit the wall of the paddling pool, and stopped.