One haircut today, and that was first thing this morning. My winter duffel was too heavy for the hanger - it snapped. Dinner was a discount cottage pie and yesterday's beer. I dried the crockery on the arse of my jeans. The cutlery I dried on my sleeve. The laundry hangs in the August … Continue reading one haircut today.
Poetry is to be dropped at school as a GCSE option... but education experts warned that they wouldn't be able to stop teenagers writing at home at night.
Tonight, laying in our bed - feet beached in sheets, salt beads on our brows, salt beads on our cheeks - the thought again about leaving. It was fleeting, like the lighthouse beam that plays across the headland, plays across the bay. The beam that threads the walls of this charmed room is a silken … Continue reading A Thimble.
Paul putt-putted her brow with two kisses and this seemed to me most fitting. Then, with some gargantuan and comedic effort, he clambered from the carpet, through the air to the bed and sat upon it, exhausted and pale in the candlelight. Paul peered into the compact, caught his breath and pouted. Have a go, he … Continue reading Sally, too.
30/07 [One summer's afternoon in the late 1970s, myself and Paul _?_ took his mother's dinghy out onto the bay. They lived in a small first floor flat just behind the harbour. The boat, a fibreglass tortoise shell shaped thing with a 50cc prop engine that could be clamped onto the stern, was kept in … Continue reading dream diaries…94
Paul, being her lover, tried, with his voice, to rouse her. She'd liked his voice. But not so much now it seemed. He spoke her name with a frog in his throat. We giggled. Sally did nothing. Then he was nose to the carpet, ear next to her's. He stroked her hair. He spoke her … Continue reading Twice (For Some Reason).
