“‘t Have…”

Raw Materials: Smells Better than Your Average Papermill as Well

I went round to Martin’s house last night with the promise of scotch and traveller’s tales. He and Tanja had just returned from a four-week trip to Thailand that they’d been planning for the best part of twelve months.
They showed me their photos, the bagain knock-off Oakleys and Ray Bans, the cheap Swiss Army watch, the hand-woven silk scarves they plan to hang on their sitting room wall; they showed me the tasteful wooden fruit bowl and the miniature Buddha. Then they gave me my gift – elephant dung writing paper. It doesn’t smell of shit but I don’t relish licking those envelopes.