Franz Marc fighting formsFranz Marc Fate of the AnimalsFranz Marc fate animals
Cock-a-doo . . . er.’
Bill Door stared at the roof of the barn.
‘Cock-a-doodle . . . er.’
Grey light loft and stepped out into the thin mist of dawn. The elderly chickens watched him cautiously as he peered into their house. An ancient and rather embarrassed-looking cockerel glared at him and shrugged.
There was a clanging noise from the direction of the house. An old iron barrel hoop was hanging by the door, and Miss Flitworth was hitting it vigorously with a ladle.
He stalked over to investigate.
WHAT FOR ARE YOU MAKING THE NOISE, MISS was filtering in between the cracks.Yet only moments ago there had been the red light of sunset!Six hours had vanished.Bill hauled out the timer. Yes. The level was definitely down. While he had been waiting to experience sleep, something had stolen part of his . . . of his life. He’d completely missed it, too - ‘Cock...cock-a...er...’He climbed down from the
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