February 12th 2019 (East Surrey) The hospital is vast, busy. Following the blue line on the floor I arrive at the Post-Stroke ward. The ward is made up of 12 beds. The nurse points out dad's bed. The last on the left, by the window. He is partially hidden by a screen; a bony foot … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island. 15
They piled the sled with a tray barbecue, some boxed hamburger, some bottles of booze, and they each took a turn to pull this prize bundle from Dovecote estate to the top of Cow Hill. The sky, full of futures and the soft snow, balled, was blue to the coast and, maybe, beyond. Danny kissed … Continue reading Danny The Cow Hill Dreamer.
they sat in the low light blue smoke of the room and, after a while, running out of things to say, he picked up a guitar and started to strum some rudimentary chords, plucking triads and tripping harmonics and, believing he was, of a sudden, some old blues man, he began to throw in some … Continue reading perhaps this is what they call jazz?
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