May 19th. The cool, clear air in the orchard. He walks between the trees. Their shadows on the pale grass. He has no shadow. He is unseen. The fallen fruit and the fruit flies buzzing. The air feels chill in his throat. He is a ghost. May 21st. Back at a version of … Continue reading dream diaries…65
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The Lookout.
Some years later. He pulls the peacoat collar up over his ears and, head down, takes heel to the bottom of the street. Folk still whisper as he passes, but less so these days. They grow old, they float away, they die. He lives with the memories of that night; the sky more white star … Continue reading The Lookout.
Bloodline
you dreamt this, she said. i had a trick involving string, a snide loop, a special knot. i had learned it from my dad - seen it once in 1970 something. every magician needs an assistant, be they beautiful or a drunken old shepherd with hoof coloured teeth and field hands. but he had a … Continue reading Bloodline


