I have 83 stories published in
11 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 49733 times and 73 of my stories have been cherry picked.
Snowed hills: white waves breaking thickly on the horizon.
Night: its cross-hatching of antilight behind the eyes; its white-noise hiss of unused sound.
Even depression these days is branded in London. Mine is delivered as a blank parcel to the mind, its contents an image of the Hanger Lane Gyratory...
In the warm cabin, The girl swept the crepe mixture round the circular griddle like a World War II radar. The other side of the counter, the air was crisp and cold.