title: The Dove's Letter
author: Keith Baker
description: It is a perfect day for flyingthe air is clear, the sun bright. As a dove flies above the woods, she spots a letter tied with a bright red ribbon, and knows she must deliver it. When she shows it to a woodsman, he is so excited that he rushes offleaving the letter behind. She then shows it to a woman, who also rushes off, convinced that her husband wrote it. The dove spends the entire day showing the letter to different people, and each is convinced the letter is from someone he or she loves. As the dove flies home that night, exhausted, she spies a lone soldier traveling below. She drops the letter at the soldier's feet and falls asleep on his shoulder. The soldier carries the dove back to her nest, and when she wakes up the next day she is surrounded by presents. Baker has written an unusual and pleasing story, utilizing repetitive elements in both text and illustrations. The use of pattern in the pictures, while influenced by Japanese art, is reminiscent of a patchwork quilt, with the dark greens, browns and blacks of the woods carefully juxtaposed against the bright blue of the sky, the muted yellows of the fields, and the white of the dove and the letter. A masterful first book. Ages 4-8. <BR>Copyright 1988 Reed Business Information, Inc.
zlib_text:  
   
  
  Dove
  Copyright © 2015 D H Sidebottom
  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual places, incidents and persons, living or
  dead, is purely coincidental.
  Copyright © 2015 D H Sidebottom. Please do not copy, alter or redistribute this book.
  Please secure author’s permission before sharing any extracts of this book.
  
  Table of Contents
  Title Page
  Copyright
  Quote
  Prologue
  One
  Two
  Three
  Four
  Five
  Six
  Seven
  Eight
  Nine
  Ten
  Eleven
  Twelve
  Thirteen
  Fourteen
  Fifteen
  Sixteen
  Seventeen
  Eighteen
  Nineteen
  Twenty
  Twenty-One
  Twenty-Two
  Twenty-Three
  Twenty-Four
  Twenty-Five
  Epilogue
  Author Links
  Coming Soon
  Tiny Bloody Lies
  TEN
  
   
   
  
  CLOSING THE FOLDED piece of paper, I stared at the bright yellow flower Mum
  
  had drawn on the front, with the words, ’15 AT LAST’ scrawled across the
  top in thick red letters.
  Russia.
  She’d fucked off to Russia with Bob!
  My legs wobbled and I flopped onto the threadbare two-seater bench, the
  corner of the foldaway table digging into my hip and making me h