'The day is perfect. The thousand little things that go wrong make it complete. The sea is littered with dead seaweed. On the beach, shoeless, you've just stepped on a glob of tar; its insistent pulp clings to your toes. But you don't care. You accept the peskiness of the fly and the distraction of the mongrel sniffing your leg. Such is the world: always more beautiful than the perfect utopias contrived by your wishes.' The Poet's Tarot - by Josep...