Friday, 28 September 2012

Ben Aaronovitch, Rivers of London


Very similar to Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere, as many reviews point out. Set in a supernatural London and written by a chap who works in the Covent Garden Waterstone's, as the very proud lady pointed out to me when I bought it. I now feel duty-bound to go back there to but the sequel. As luck would have it, it's right near to the fantastic Gelateria on New Row so I can have a decent ice cream and coffee too.
Maybe this weekend I can head up there as I need some new shoes and jeans. My current pair have been destroyed through all the rough and tumbles. Freddie caught me out last night. 'Daddy, please can we lie on our backs and look at the stars?'
'But we're inside , Fred'
'I know, it's just pretend.'
So I lie on my back and as I start to pretend Ursa Minor is on the ceiling, Freddie and his auxilary Libby dive bomb me and Freddie performs his favourite trick of popping on my face.

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