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An Artistic Expression by Paul McCann The depiction of still life there in a art form for all to share , some fruit on a silver platter whatever the...

He does not like artificial light. Prefers natural darkness. Sunlight seeps in like an apology for a shy illumination of his room. She likes it this...

1/5/25 Easter came in even more haste than usual, it seemed to Alfred, who liked, in recent years, to write something appropriate to this time of...

get dressed, sit on the bed, no sign of ginny, long smoke break glad that she’s here, despite her toddler style whining she knew I shouldn’t be alone...

I want to eat stale fairy cakes Crushing silver balls in my molars Annihilating all hopes of sophistication Crumbling among old mercurial fillings...

As I swilled back a final deoch an dorais in the cosy and serenely atmospheric old bar, my mind was puzzled by how much a city could have changed in under half a century. Or perhaps it was me and my mind that had changed.

In our home, we wait until something is on its last legs before it is repaired or a new one is bought. The large glass in our back door was cracked,...

Late last night I took a new bottle of whiskey outside and sat under the pine tree with the low branches in the back garden. Rain came on, fine rain...