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Sandhill Only in Name
The sand hill crane is an immaculate beast I have not once seen on sand or hill, Rather knee-deep in retention water Steaming its belly feathers in...
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- 183 reads
Still Life II
Yesterday never really got light. A bleak midwinter day if ever there was one. Sky, a twilit grey-green all day, somewhere between aventurine and...
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- 191 reads
The Meeting of the Waters
A few words about my love affair with one of Europe's great rivers and her little sister.
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- 9 comments
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- 1196 reads
Why Christmas? (1)
[Continuing the hymn-for-Sundays series] Nothing, nothing to be seen. Only One, true God, who’d been always, ever and content, but he chose to make, invent … damaged, sad … trust he would appear …
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- 1182 reads
Little Golden Fishes
little golden fishes that the guiris drop in la fuente on the way to the clubs and bars from the fairground float side up in the fountain
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- 347 reads
The Vagabond Heirs of Francisco Franco
They sit in every cafe-bar named after the street on whose corner it squats. Smoking, small-eyed, wall-eyed moustachioed muchachos remembering kisses...
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- 959 reads
Roommate
I tightened my grip on the box of books, the corners biting into my palms, as I navigated the narrow staircase to my new apartment. The air was thick...
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- 1969 reads
On December Nights in 1973
On December Nights in 1973 Our mum, she loved Marks & Spencer. She'd always say, "Ohh.You can't beat them for quality. For value!" Every...
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- 4 comments
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- 1729 reads
The Last Night Good Night Chapter 11
The Last Night Chapter 11 Good Night 35 “I see Mama.” Wyatt murmured when he slid from the bed and joined Ariel and Forrest. They were standing with...
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- 899 reads
The Rain
The Rain His first memory is when he hid under his Mum’s bed to scare her new boyfriend. The boyfriend had needles. At the time he didn’t know what...
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- 1327 reads
Stormy Night Of Passion
Fading into night, stars intrinsic to space and time twinkle, while chilly forked branches interlace; those giants stand tall watching over living...
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- 18 comments
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- 5125 reads
Another Cup Of Coffee (Dead Reckoning series - Part 38)
In which Josiah and Archibald escape from the long arm of the law, but for how long?
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- 510 reads
Still Life
Friday evening, joined a ceilidh-zoom for the Geopoetics Society Christmas celebration. Forgot about all that zoom, ‘you’re-on-mute‘, kafuffle. Am...
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- 776 reads
Cosm
Time is my timelord, accuracy is written in the stars, each perfect in their allotment of space. No errancy here, no easing of the rules, no escape...
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- 202 reads
Globe’s North-South Divide
The cold takes hold, night’s darkness lingers longer but down in the South the growth’s reviving, the daylight’s lengthening, strengthening, its...
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- 4 comments
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- 1413 reads
1:5:6 Agreements (Part 7)
The flash of white burned a little brighter but they still safely made it to the desert. Lore had pre-programmed their second jump so that the moment...
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- 320 reads
Christ Mas Lights.
This week there were two funerals. My brother went to the one I went to the other. The funeral my brother went to the young person had taken their...
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- 1575 reads
Goth Kit (IP)
At seventeen, I was a goth. A serious goth. I lived in skin-tight black drainpipes, slippery viscose shirts, eyeliner so sharp it could cut glass,...
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- 3962 reads
On High with the Angels
Drove home on Monday via the Glamis Road, avoiding the queues from Dundee roadworks. Exited for Kinfauns and rather than go left towards Scone, out...
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- 1316 reads
The Worm
Of all of my books, it is De Vermis Mysteriis that is the most mysterious. An old book copied from much older sources, translated into different languages and kept hidden, it details long lost civilisations and their monstrous gods. For our history is a crafted lie, created to hide the fact that we are not the first intelligent races to exist on this planet.
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- 1613 reads