It was chalked on the bog wall and spread quickly round school - a whisper to a chant in the playground. “Pippin’s mum’s only got one tit!” Odd. • We’d played darts at Pippin’s last summer. The house on the corner, halfway up Steep Street. I kept score. We smoked his mum’s cigarettes, drank his … Continue reading Withered Apples.
Tag: creative writing
dream diaries…43
October 6th 2018 A cake shop in Bristol. I walk in off the street to ask directions to the cinema. Jodie J pops up from behind the counter. "Funny, you being here," I say. "Not really. I work here." She pushes a plate of Lemon Drizzle across the counter. "You'll need this," she says. … Continue reading dream diaries…43
Seagull Sips Cappuccino
We are waiting for the driver to finish his smoke. He paces the concrete. The bus is half-full. There is quiet chat and nobody grumbles. This is how it is in a small seaside town. The bus service is limited. It is a luxury. We wait with our bags of shopping. We wait with … Continue reading Seagull Sips Cappuccino


