One Potato Review

It starts in the morning – that buzzing in your ears that may just be paranoia, or may be the fruits of a survival mechanism honed over millions of inhospitable years. What if I have somewhere made an ass of myself? What if someone’s planning to eat me? The end may be predictable here, but it’s a hopeful consolation to hold onto: that we are ever worthy of other people’s secrets. As a bonus, there is Mr. Marshall’s neighborhood - full of grandmotherly parrots and who-me? owls and dapper, implacable hounds - to make any fable worth the price of a message.