Dis Tyd, the sign said. It’s Time. I smiled to myself as we entered the room. A fire crackled, merrily accompanying the sound of people chatting. It was a miserable day outside. I was so glad we had followed Eduard’s advice and investigated his wife’s new coffee shop. Every week, my best friend, ‘B’ and
I remember as a child reading The Wishing Chair by Enid Blyton. It was about a magical chair that could fly. Together with the owners of the Wishing Chair I flew on so many enthralling adventures. I now know how The Wishing Chair came into existence. It grew magically on a branch of one