Five in the lapstrake.

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. →

Moon, mentioned.

Rib Nite 2Pig 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, shakes … Continue reading Moon, mentioned. →