Am I being noisy or too quiet, dear muse? Politeness, the choice of weapon we choose. We listened to ‘the season of the witch.' This is our secret and how I wish I adored your sleight of hand ways – but... the silent rewriting and riot of this early spring evening on Whitley Bay beach … Continue reading The Byrds fell in love with Bob.
I woke up and the room was dark. The room was dark and peaceful. I had been dreaming about someone from the past - a friend I hadn't seen since twenty-fourteen or sometime thereabouts. She was working in that dream in a school, she was working in that dream behind the reception desk in a … Continue reading empty pages.
March 5th 2013 (Llandudno) Jonathan X, the organiser of the Save Our Funicular festival, has assured us that we can crash at his house. He has appalling body odour and a tiny, plastic dragon perches on the top of his bald head. His pate is painted green. He wafts around the venue with one hand … Continue reading Notes From a Fragile Island. 17
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