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.
They sat on the doorstep at the back of the flats every evening filling the jam jar ashtray and trading hushed nothings. Autumn, she sat with her knees drawn and clasped. She stretched her legs long before her, silk pouring from them, on June evenings such as this one. They had been joined by another … Continue reading Starlight Conversation.
the prose she hones (analogue collage 06/11/20 10x10") The prose she hones all winter is wreathed in magic, sex and wonder. Come spring, will she, I ponder, still pen me essays of her darkest hour.
cut-up. Nat. Geo/ Boys' Own. watercolour wash. 20" X 30"
nickreeves 