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Uncomplicated Jarrow doodle.

“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” said Post Office Counter Clerk Ygritte, as she printed out the postage label and stuck it on the bastard’s package. “I...

Reflecting with sincere compassion on those crippled...unable to leave their house, they gaze out of window watching world pass by. Take heart, be...

This is an apocryphal tale narrated in the voice of a small boy. The boy being my late father in law and his recollection of a day trip to the seaside that ultimately went wrong. I have embellished much, but the essence of the recollection remains true, as was the final destination of the ill-fated trip.

Whisperings from beyond the earth.

Millmoor was once a Military town, well actually it was always an army town, until the defense cuts, but the quarters had been refurbished and sold to eager would be home owners.

Every morning he saw her on the Finchbottom Express, in the same seat, she was a twenty something, a sweet young thing who smiled at him each day, occasionally a “Hello” or “Hi” was exchanged but nothing more profound that that.

Dagny had everyone out of the pub by eleven. She nearly had to take a broom to one of the big drunks at the bar who declined to move on account of...

The recent fire of the Notre Dame cathedral prompted me to retrieve this 'Cento' poem from my archive (2008)