Some years later. He pulls the peacoat collar up over his ears and, head down, takes heel to the bottom of the street. Folk still whisper as he passes, but less so these days. They grow old, they float away, they die. He lives with the memories of that night; the sky more white star … Continue reading The Lookout.
It is a gorse-yellow and golden dawn over Penn Beacon. Fresh rush and suck of the shingle beneath the shallow lap waves as they reach, keel and recoil. We roll the boat from the low trailer into the sea. Ffooks and Farrow, his cousin, on one side, Sean and I on the other. When we … Continue reading Five in the lapstrake.
Should you ever care to walk, or dare some length of Emperor Hadrian's Wall, it is advised, by Roman Legionnaires and other hardy souls in the know, to lay your best foot down way out in the west & march into the east. The wind, a constant howl across Northumbria, will be at your back and … Continue reading Witches Knickers.
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