He entered the hallway to the delicious aroma of fresh baking, smiling to himself as he bent to remove his boots and discarded them carelessly, caring nothing for the dark marks he left on the freshly

Don't go into the woods, they said, in lowered voices and hushed tones, hinting darkly at unknown terrors. but why?

‘Departure’ Angela took one last, lingering look at the house before loading the final case into the boot of her car. It was no understatement

It's not the loss that terrorises me, But the threat to my narcissism, Like a gallant fool, Walking across a deserted patch, Of grass neither urbal or rural, In nature, The dystopia,

Started writing this after watching something on the box about William Morris.

i really do hate facebook

I plucked a fern from Dylan's hill, cut the 'H' from Ginsberg's 'Howl', nicked some lines from R McGough, regurgitated them wholesale. I robbed a phrase from Mr Hughes,

Early morning halflight I look for clues scour halfread books listen for whispers in favourite music tangible riffs tangled in memory. I look for clues hints of mindset