Scarce of traffic, vehicular or pedestrian, Sumner Road stretches east-west across the early evening dereliction that was once lined with kempt and pretty red bricked terraces and local businesses, but now is bordered only by bombed-out and mostly abandoned buildings resembling broken teeth. Some are so destroyed that the backyards, wild with nettles, can … Continue reading Sumner Road.
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 women were the last to leave. Monica, Luella, Jodie, Siobhan. Lottie and Tin Ribs. They left the simple room in ones and twos, led by the redhead with wet, brown eyes and lace up shoes. She held her tiny chin an inch inclined. She appeared to him no older than when they had last … Continue reading Cold Hands.
Dave Seven handcrafted jewellery; unusual one-offs, accessories, such as pelt skull caps, kid suede mitts and gaiters; belts, tan leather drawstring purses - and pretty, iridescent feathered dreamcatchers that snared both dawn and dusk sunlight and dust breeze at the window, as well as the unwanted, darker elements of slumber. It was a skill he … Continue reading Goat Couture.
Knott squatted in the muddy field, finding meagre shelter there beneath the rattling leaves of a storm-split twist of tree, a stone’s throw from the road and, glancing up and down its silent length, he felt pretty sorry for himself in his sodden clothes. He figured he would stay a while, see if the rain … Continue reading “…let him come hither.”
This is another way he remembered her. Her laughter flowered the living room walls causing colours to bloom here and voices, like hot-air balloons, also. Her face framed at the hatch, asking from the kitchen, who’s for dessert. And some of them claimed to be stuffed, but thank you, and some of them, groaning, held … Continue reading The Pear Gateau.
