We rolled her up in a big blue blanket, belting the middle, taping the ends, and we bore her, between us, right through the town while everyone slept. The street lanterns pooled the asphalt but would not give us away. The shop glass, only fleetingly. The gutters blubbered and bubbled. ∞ Shush! Shush, the fossils are … Continue reading Aspects & Angles
Sam, his teeth scratchy yellow, leaning dangerously away from the table, on a chair stood on two legs, passes the smoke jar and says, “diamonds, dear Sidney, may well be a girl’s best...” He holds up one hand, clenched. Then the other. He gathers eyes. He opens the first fist and blows into his palm. … Continue reading Greyhound Suggestion.
unfolded sheets and cornered pages, cobalt, rising from the blanket, found a world within the drawer - everything unpainted. the velour shadow of the curtain, quiet and thin and barely moving, bows before the wounded evening - everything unpainted.
Lunch was a joyless chore in South Shields. The allowed hour was passed in that miserable and stifled staff room of P. Marsk Hairdressing, where the legend We Make You Look Good - that irritating and irksome italicised 'Good' - bearing down erroneously from the brown wall behind him, into him, through his thinning crown, his dimming mind, … Continue reading Mirror 9 – JMW Turner [Shields, on The Tyne, 1823] postcard.
December 21st 2019. We met in the soft cotton tunnels, both wriggling upward toward the light, and when we reached the surface, we found that the landscape was a duvet; a duvet of molehills for us to climb into and out of. A duvet meadow of blue, pale, but warmed by rods of sunlight. A … Continue reading dream diaries…76
December 12th 2019. I climb Old Lyme Road, past the dark houses, the long garden lawns. The black of the hedges leaning out into the tarmac. The village behind me, impossibly small, improbably distant. And then, the road ends abruptly, just as I remember it. It is still marked by the iron gate, brown and … Continue reading dream diaries…75