Fish Man squats Fatima Mansions, a tumbledown townhouse on Pentonville Square. The building is in all day shadow behind iron tooth-pick railings on a scrap of dirt. The windows are boarded and the front door padlocked. But the board at this window, here, is a sham. It is nailed once at the top of the … Continue reading The Hollow Men.
The Young Galaxy.
The Old Man Grinner. See, here I am; in the fireplace, the grate, the hearth, the dirt. Here I am; atop the hissing log, in the flame, the glow, the smoke; still I cannot raise a heat. I will whisper in the bubbling sap, shout as the pine cones snap. Here I am! I am … Continue reading The Young Galaxy.
Cumbrian Juniper EP.
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Aces, Fruits & Ingots.
Louella looking out the no-one-can-look-in glass. Everything inside the car defined. Everything outside blurring. Towns appear and disappear. Endless dual-carriage and fields. There is motion. There is none. There is heat. Burning Spear on repeat. There is no sickness. No one spoke as they drove west. They stayed the night at a clean hotel in Meredith. … Continue reading Aces, Fruits & Ingots.
Pan & The Fluted Mimosa.
The sun dropped behind the bruised horizon and the sky became plateaued in fading orange and blue. A car, bearing the legend Weston Taxis, appeared on the quiet street, stopping opposite The Playhouse. The sky was held in the theatre's windows; a ghost crowd, too; foyered. A man and a woman climbed from the taxi … Continue reading Pan & The Fluted Mimosa.