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 dogs, marking sand with brief print, ancient scratch-language, lengthen and, boundless, plunge at the cones of surf, smashing them, barking. * A lone figure travails the blown beach. He drags a suitcase. He looks up from his feet and seems surprised to find another living here and, as we pass, I see that the … Continue reading The Empty Benches.
‘The Village Collegiate Xmas Do Will be held this year in the Bingo Hall. Festivities will commence at half two On Black Eye Friday – come dressed for a brawl.’ * The sign on the wall of the faculty was surprising to see to say the least - last year’s do ending so tragically with … Continue reading The Village Collegiate Xmas Do.
