conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know a description for a book titled Every Five Minutes about Auckland, Zealand, Author with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Literary?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author has written over a wide range of genres, fiction and non-fiction, and is the author of a large number of published works short stories, articles, and books. She has won several short story and playwriting competitions, and earned other writing awards. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, where she is a full-time writer, now preferring to write fiction.flaxroots.com
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about Author.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author has written over a wide range of genres, fiction and non-fiction, and is the author of a large number of published works short stories, articles, and books. She has won several short story and playwriting competitions, and earned other writing awards. She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, where she is a full-time writer, now preferring to write fiction. See more about this Author at www. flaxroots. com
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Every Five Minutes
  All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for the purpose of fair reviewing.
  I reached for the glasses that were lying on the bench between us and placed them on the tip of my nose, inclining my head so I could peer over the rims. With my right index finger poised to take notes on the imaginary pad of my other hand, I asked you,
  My eyes are still shut. I know that when I open them the grey I see through my closed lids will lighten only a shade.
  The day ahead, I think as I lie here, promises to be overcast with sudden showers. Much like yesterday, the day before that, and every one for the past thirteen. Yet outside the window I hear the sounds of a day with more promise - mild and still warm as Auckland usually is in April - and I know that when I do rise and open the curtains the sun will be shining across the patio at the back of the house, and on the planter with the seedlings of antirrhinum and stock you planted fifteen days ago. Colour and scent, you said, for the winter to come.
  Then I feel your soft kiss brush my lips, gently oh so gently, and your voice in my ear saying "Good morning darling". I turn over and reach out for you.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know five more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Since I'd come up with it, and shared it with you in one of our lighter moments, it was the name by which I liked to think of you, and the one you used when you contacted me.
  We walked back to your house where I'd left my car, thinking about the evening we'd spent with Richard and Anchali.
  It wasn't a cosmic reference, you confirmed as we walked, for she was at least the fourth wife he'd had in this human existence. You lost touch with him for a few years between Natalie and Vanda, and had an idea there could have been another in that time.
  Richard had mentioned other lives several times in the course of the evening, so I assumed he believed in reincarnation, as I commented to you.
  For the remainder of the journey, a further seven blocks, we walked in comparative silence, making just the occasional observation.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last three paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: You have an answer for everything, I think, but instead of doing as you suggest I slide the volume under your pillow. That's the right place for it, and as I lie with my head on my matching pillow it's there beside me.
  Sleep well, Mr Chipzenburger. My friend, my lover, my mentor, my remarkable man who could make a stone into a mirror.
  Blue is for cornflowers, the sky in summer and the colour of the harbour - all of which we shared on memorable days. It is also for eyes I know still watch over me. It can be for soulful music, but it need not always be for sadness.