People, please: permit me to introduce our postman. Tall, anxious chap, goes by the name of Colin, wears a broad-brimmed hat to keep the rain off, and is so kind-natured that I overlook his tendency to remark, "And another parcel for Twisted?" whenever he arrives at our door. Anyway, the thing about Colin is that he's talkative. Which is fine, normally. But this morning when I answered the door to him (no mean feat: the door in question has swollen so much in the damp that it takes the strength Continue Reading