Having no tuppence for fish and chip supper, marrowfat peas, pale ale, bread and butter, I shaped a plaything from yesterday’s paper and pretended the pavement a pitch. Some time later, I mentioned the weather in a bus queue, under puddled umbrellas. I motioned a cup and a ring and a feather beneath afternoon nimbus, … Continue reading I Heard The Name Daniel Defoe.
I signed up for a course - Creative Journaling: it ticked all the boxes. Something that I've always done. Well, you gotta have a hobby, innit. The amusement being me (I should put more effort in). The notebook is the end of the novel - Wish I'd said that - I just did (I note … Continue reading My Strasse.
It is my habit to keep your letters, on arrival, unopened on the mantelpiece, among the mementos and dusty treasure, for sometimes up to a week. Anticipation being one of life's sweeter pleasures. Your bold black hand, the seal of tape (security), the amusing doodles of hairy noses, the way you address the envelope Doctor … Continue reading They tame tigers down that way.
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