celticman
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uncovering oneself (1)
In my head it was Monday. The garden gate didn’t cry, or try and out-rattle me. Mum’s gardening shoes were resting on the bottom step of the decking...
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- 12636 reads
post down the line
We grew up, lips leerin’ The whistle went son, the game begins Once round, no-man’s again Barbed wire, no-holds quintain Drilling, dodging, filthy...
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- 7244 reads
Cadogan Street
‘Hi, it’s me. Phone me back.’ ‘Hi, it’s me. Phone me back.’ ‘I’m a bit worried. Can you phone me back?’ ‘Is there something the matter with this...
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- 5197 reads
Trench Feet
Mother was pleased that Father was dead, because the thought of me getting divorced from a wonderful girl that had given me everything and three...
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- 6366 reads
Life in bits
I picked up a photo of Billy Quinn the other day. Don’t ask me where I got it. He’s handsome. I don’t remember him being handsome. I never remember...
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- 5340 reads