It's a competition my dad would love to win, but he never does, that honer goes every year to the same man, our neighbour, he just appears to be ahead...of everyone, and every year he walks away with it, my dad just goes ballistic. Last year was something of an obsession in our house, as dad plotted and schemed to do his utmost to usurp the old man, his sworn mortal enemy.One day I came home from school to find the street with police all over the place, someone had snuck in next door and did some. Vistas of the town, landscapes, the stuff that was, or had been, sold to tourists. Something seemed right. Something seemed wrong.“Come in,” a female voice said, “here is another room where you can see more of my stuff.”The voice had come from behind the coats. There was a narrow passage, its walls as roughly hewn as those of the cave, bent so that what lay behind it wasn’t visible from where it opened. I walked through. It opened into a vast underground chamber, with stonework walls, arches,. More

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