The Kiss.

He woke beneath a kitchen table. Scattered crumbs rose like far-off prairie mountains on the tiles. Through a slice of window he could see a deep crusted snow, shining on a rooftop. The sky held more snow. He was wearing someone else's jumper. Heavy, handwoven, Hebridian: blue with a daisy motif. He stared at the … Continue reading The Kiss.

The Crow Court.

Speedy Ange laughs. Don’t know ya up from ya down, do ya. I'm all over the place. They’re cooking up hot knives in the kitchenette; Tammy and Speedy Ange. I’m failing to tune a guitar in the other room. Bare boards and candles and incense. Ash on china. I’m on my back, Tammy’s sunburst Jaguar … Continue reading The Crow Court.

Fleet Circles.

The chilled yellow interior of the fridge in the one bulb backroom of the frozen pet food shop made him wince. Nick sniffed the milk. He sluiced the tea ringed mugs under the cold tap, wiping the rims with a thumbed and fingered tea towel. The Chelsea one with its chipped lip and sepia rings. … Continue reading Fleet Circles.

Goat Couture.

Dave Seven handcrafted jewellery; unusual one-offs, accessories, such as pelt skull caps, kid suede mitts and gaiters; belts, tan leather drawstring purses - and pretty, iridescent feathered dreamcatchers that snared both dawn and dusk sunlight and dust breeze at the window, as well as the unwanted, darker elements of slumber. It was a skill he … Continue reading Goat Couture.