An anagram of Dorset

cobb gate.

West Bay, she said. Oh, the other side of Golden Cap. Depends how you look at it. I Guess. * She recorded ambient noise onto tape. Well everyone needs a hobby. And when she returned she brought a gift. - Recording of Chesil Beach. I play it on headphones when I can't sleep. Wake up, … Continue reading An anagram of Dorset

a clutch of gerbera.

i watched a wet cormorant on a rock in a tide pool, her drape wings seeking heat from the bleak october. and at noon i thought of you at your grandmother's funeral, in the miniature jewels of the yew tree, beneath lichen fur. i imagined you in your annie hall get-up, cradling a clutch of … Continue reading a clutch of gerbera.

After work.

cassettes: you're a big girl now. <p class="has-drop-cap has-normal-font-size" style="line-height:1.3" value="<amp-fit-text layout="fixed-height" min-font-size="6" max-font-size="72" height="80">At some point, between pocketing the takings, locking the shop, walking the length of Station Street, bent into the breeze and shoeing wet leaves, he decides to see if she'd like a drink. And there she is, Hannah in the white … Continue reading After work.

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.