Cherrypicked stories

There is Still Time to wipe your tongue across greying lips, and kiss the world back. For you are no different than us. We have all committed the...

Warm glass is kinda nasty. On a thick brown bottle too. That’s the worst. Some alkie musta left it half empty on the wall of broken bricks.

Molloch's crimes are finally uncovered. But important evidence is missing. Parts 21-22 of 22.

This was insipired by memories of my father’s lusty singing of the humourous 'National Anthem of the Ancient Britons' or the 'Woad Ode' (to tune of Men of Harlech) I didn’t know it by that title but just by some of the words and tune (see links) I used to enjoy the fun, rhythm and fun rhymes. What I’ve written comes from thinking about it but is nothing like it.

Alexander stands trial. Parts 19-20 of 22.

I had always thought of my cousin as a waster. Then I met a man at his funeral.

Trees above seem dead and dun; fragile …

Inklings. A random selction of thoughts from my jotter, on a theme.

10th May 1962 After a month as a Shipstonian, it's fair to say there have been more bumps in the road than I'd expected. But perhaps, I’m finally...