1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9

Each black current tells its own tale, an acrid scent and sharp taste of the one grown in the corner to the overripe sweetness of a current in sun. I tasted many of these this morning, stripping and mounting the bushes. I am not sure who was watching me through the keyhole, for I cannot find it in the authoritative volumes on keyholes. You see, Sterne does not mention his black current bushes, not even once. Perhaps they are beyond his time. So I must tell the tale in my own way.

But not here. This is my short chapter. The one that promises to talk of buttonholes and pishes (CHECK) but merely alludes to their existence.