Fragments (consider revising)

A collection of writings wot Word thinks don't make much sense.

Limbo is Eveningend

“You Have Now Entered Eveningend: Tread Carefully.”

The Shame of Sir Saxmundham

/*--> */ Beyond his kitchen garden sits a caravan, green with mould; its small satellite dish, a Freudian slip of protrusions and dimples. His...

The Otter’s Prayer

Our Father Who art in River ‘Otter’ be thy name Thy rivers swum Thy will be done In Perth as it is in Devon. Give us this say our daily salmon And...


Chapter Two Trout-Gate 18 th September, 2000 The next Saturday morning, I awoke to the sound of my Auntie Amandine thoroughly sanitising her nether...