Cherrypicked stories

“Hey, don’t I know you?” He looks round, places a battered copy of something by his Pilsner, and shimmies slightly up the gradient.

Drunk again, drunk before Knocking at an open door Giving you things to keep Things that I had buried deep Placing my heart in the traction Of...

Sunday 18 th August 2019. Sarah's birthday barbecue. Enjoying need For inspiration As hearing caw Of crows, Deep thoughts turn To northern winds,...

I take these two orange pills every night They dull out the pain the struggle and fight They numb my senses until I feel Nothing that this world...

https://www.the-tls.co.uk/a-sorceress-at-pompeii/ A good point well made, Professor Beard . Cesare Abate took this photo. I asked him if it was okay, if he says no, I'll remove it. Can't say fairer than that. *He said yes.

A silver haired woman furiously sweeps away the dust on her porch, the sheets on the washing line wave like a sail, the dust blows back into her face...

Emma stood at the water's edge. Her toes feeling the sand as it crunched under her weight. The morning sun rays bounced off the water; giving the...

The neck of her saxophone glistens like an industrial chimney, its golden valves bubbling up crotchets through the whisky-drowsing air.