A Thimble.

Tonight, laying in our bed - feet beached in sheets, salt beads on our brows, salt beads on our cheeks - the thought again about leaving. It was fleeting, like the lighthouse beam that plays across the headland, plays across the bay. The beam that threads the walls of this charmed room is a silken … Continue reading A Thimble.

Dim Witness.

The pipistrelle circled the darkening square and, with an ease unseen, made a wheel of it; a welcome for the rising shadow tide. The bell, the harbour bell, sang once across Penn Beacon, reaching the garden some time after. The thin brass coloured peal echoed across the three walls of the back garden and faded  faded faded … Continue reading Dim Witness.