Out to grass with the old face of Revlon
When I was a small boy there was a roped-off stretch of grass in a field near my house that had strange and mystical properties. If ever my friends and I wandered within 20 yards of it, the old man who apparently lived behind the peculiar red-brick bungalow in the corner of the field would come running out and yell at us.
See the rest of the article on the following link :- Source The Guardian .co.uk