Read

‘Oh and how I want to get my hands on him,’ Clare said, holding her fingers out, grabbing onto thin air, ‘I’m so excited now, Marni. Does my hair...

At 102 she can’t hear well and is confused and forgetful, but likes it when her grandson plays hymns and songs on his violin that she knew in younger days … and for his young daughter he plays, ‘Twinkle, twinkle little star … …

It was another windy day today and people outside the teashop were bending almost double in their attempts to cross the road. Railings were used like...

Dredged up from some zeroes and ones that used to be in a desktop computer. I wrote this an hour after meeting the guy in the story. He did play at the venta, later in the year. His rockabilly band went down a storm. [Image is PD and shows The Blue Caps and Sweet Gene, who I very much doubt ever visited Andalucia].

Flash fiction (300 words)

An old teacher, the word of Jesus, and a longstanding grudge

In our town so many stores stand empty, cold as weather; some left boarded up, only sign of life are doorways sheltering homeless, their bodies...

Darling, you send me way, way, way beyond this earthly brothel, bedlam, gutter and sewer, created by a colourless marauding man. Outcast, your...

These Tired Feet carried me through many tales in the woods of Northern Quebec-Ontario then Nova Scotia and all sites leaving a tattoo on my soul...