Yesterday, a photograph - acorns, on a table, jarred - appeared before me. Curiously, the reverse revealed a label, written; sinistral, spectral; snared within open quote marks, reckoning October, nineteen ninety-five. . Inclining from the past to present, the ink, faded and reminiscent of early morning light as this November beckons, reminding me that memory … Continue reading November Beckons
Perched on a bough in a black alder tree, trench rot soaking his booted feet, armpits and groin and tunic unkempt, teeming, a pale airman watched two strangers beneath. They were stood in shirt and tie, pinstripe beneath mackintosh and tucked into black rubber boots, ankle-deep in the river he knew to be the Quaggy, … Continue reading A Pale Airman.
It is my habit to keep your letters, on arrival, unopened on the mantelpiece, among the mementos and dusty treasure, for sometimes up to a week. Anticipation being one of life's sweeter pleasures. Your bold black hand, the seal of tape (security), the amusing doodles of hairy noses, the way you address the envelope Doctor … Continue reading They tame tigers down that way.
nickreeves 