Starlight Conversation.

They sat on the doorstep at the back of the flats every evening filling the jam jar ashtray and trading hushed nothings. Autumn, she sat with her knees drawn and clasped. She stretched her legs long before her, silk pouring from them, on June evenings such as this one. They had been joined by another … Continue reading Starlight Conversation.

If You See Her Say Hello.

if you see her, say hello (dylan) cassettes Rising early from their bed, in the stillness of the orange room, the grate ash glowing, a blade of winter sun slashing the thin-curtain (and falling across the boards and the giveaway upright slouched by the wall, honkytonk), she dressed, humming a vague tune, in the mirror.  Cotton, … Continue reading If You See Her Say Hello.

The Pear Gateau.

This is another way he remembered her. Her laughter flowered the living room walls causing colours to bloom here and voices, like hot-air balloons, also. Her face framed at the hatch, asking from the kitchen, who’s for dessert. And some of them claimed to be stuffed, but thank you, and some of them, groaning, held … Continue reading The Pear Gateau.

perhaps this is what they call jazz?

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?