He waited a while longer, but he saw no return. He got out from under and he went upstairs. He laid in the bath and rolled another cigarette from an ashtray collection. The mirror steamed and rain drummed the thin glass in the skylight. When the water lost its heat, he climbed out, dried himself and … Continue reading The Table.
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.
bad lieutenant had the greasy palm, sought soft fruit solace in an odd shaped bar. supped black sambuca - contracted boozers' arm. couldn't find way out of carrier bag. caught a tap on the chin from the bristol crow. grew to dislike soubriquet bestowed. reversed tartan, tripled vodka intake flow. couldn't find way out … Continue reading soubriquet.
Rib Nite 2 Pig Bill, usually a bear hug guy, comes over, shakes hand, shakes head. No bear hug, Pig Bill? The air fills with talcum. It follows him everywhere. He reckons it adds mystique to the place. Nothing doing, he says. What's this? Tickets for tomorrow's gig, he says. It's a no-goer. And, again, … Continue reading Moon, mentioned.
He hid the warm bike in the tall grass, among the trees, just shy of the flood-lit forecourt. He climbed a five-bar gate & walked the dark field until he felt he had a story straight. He smoked the last inch down to the roach. He pissed & spat into a Belfast sink he … Continue reading A Near-Dave Experience.
The shape of The Shale Basin, soon to be wintered, shading the bed of the Puget Sound, etching, at anchor, an orbit in the near-frozen water, caught between kelp and canopy of cloud. Low, early December sunlight casting long shadows, shafting the surface; an ever-complicated dance. Slow repetition, return and feign of … Continue reading The Shale Basin.
