Fading This is from when he was still a young boy; hip-slung, just so; nothing very much to say. Three lances of sunlight, emanating from beyond the top right-hand corner, fall forever across the photograph, piercing a number of the sitters - pupils and teachers. The headmaster (Mr. D) - front row, centre - has … Continue reading Fading Beehive.
The summer he left school, Nick worked Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays at his uncle’s pet food shop in Middleton, the main thrust of which was chopping and bagging frozen blocks of tripe. Of an evening he walked the woods behind his parents' house for an hour with a German Shepherd who answered to the name of … Continue reading The Orwell Fiction.
Hey, I am very happy this morning to have one of my pieces published on the rather excellent Experiments In Fiction site. Please give it - and the highly talented Ingrid at EIF - a nosey... you'll find some of her great fiction work, quarantine diaries, guest posts and meditative poetry. Head on over … Continue reading Guest post on Experiments In Fiction…
One Guy Fawkes' Night - which will add only some vague, meagre and purely incidental, albeit handy, visual and historical, romantic poetics to this otherwise quite ordinary detailing of a boy, a girl, a guest, a cat and heroin addiction - I discovered a tiny shadow at the front door. It mouthed its black miaow, … Continue reading Apricity.
I cut the hair at the nape of her neck. “There’ll probably be a bouncy castle, too,” she says. “At the church?” “No,” she says, suddenly serious. “Afterward, at the wake. But, yes, the way things are going, it won’t be long before the vicar is on the castle herself. Up and down, up and … Continue reading Tomorrow in Chideock.
One afternoon, a kettle faced woman and a big red man came in The Eight Kings. Big red went to the bar and kettle face came to the window and sat down on one of the stools facing the sea. He brought their drinks. She had a small white and he had a Bloody Mary … Continue reading Dogweed Insecurity.