Behind his shades, beneath the sliding cloud, he turned onto Baruther Strasse. He walked through the cemetery with its spray paint brickwork and its green wreathed stones and its cold clean stones and testaments. He walked, revenant, among the dead, over the rising shadows of the pigeons and the yew tree, remembering - suddenly and all … Continue reading Baruther Strasse Cemetery.
producing, from a tote bag, a battered pack of playing cards, placing it between her teeth, she began to speak while constructing a smoke. i made neither head nor tail of what she said (her words, hidden as they were within that deck), but, like the best of mime or close hand magic, it … Continue reading taken in
He took a knuckle of tobacco - naked but for a blanket cloak - in the moonlight of the kitchen, smoked a length of cigarette. He drank a cup of tea. He drank a cup of tea - rolled another cigarette - on the pre dawn carpet shapes the birdsong calling from the shadow. … Continue reading Unable to sleep…
nickreeves 