Baruther Strasse Cemetery.

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.

Always in the distance.

The man woke early from a wonderful dream convinced that he could speak German. And, to some extent this was true. Ausgezeichnet! he said quietly. His wife arched her comma shape into him. Ein wundershön traum, he said into her hair, but his voice was sticky and thick in his throat, full of cold, as … Continue reading Always in the distance.

Birdsong of The Spoons.

Despite having spent an age arranging the blind so that she could sit on the rug with her back to the sofa and watch the morning light dance within their slatted lengths, she found herself under heavy cloud, brewing, quite unable to play. She laid the cold horn on the sofa, scooped up her shades … Continue reading Birdsong of The Spoons.

Walking Berlin: north to Tiergarten/south to Kreuzberg

  An hour spent browsing in the wonderful Bucherhalle (Hauptstraße 154, 10827 Berlin):  a bright, one roomed & spacious antiquarian bookshop. A staircase leads to a balcony floor that encompasses the main area below, giving the place an airy, lofty feel. There is a wide selection of new & second-hand fiction & study aids, art … Continue reading Walking Berlin: north to Tiergarten/south to Kreuzberg