Perhaps I’m a delusional fool. Perhaps she isn’t actually poor. Perhaps she’d merely chosen to earn some spare change by singing Middle Eastern songs in the streets of England. Perhaps she needs to practice her singing and thought she might as well try to earn a few quid while she works through her repertoire. Perhaps … (Read More)
Because life isn’t a neat and tidy experience.
In prison. Doing a stretch. Locked-up. Banged-up. In chokey. And so on. Call it what you like. What you call it changes nothing. “Make me an offer I can’t refuse”, I said. And he did, and so I didn’t. And so I’ve ended up here. It’s that simple; that’s all it boils down to. Fleshing … (Read More)
With the cold comes Jack Frost, but relying on superstition and blaming Jack for winter is asking for too much cancelled disbelief; it grows ever harder to even suspend it. Without lost-in-misty-time fancies, without those easy comforts, Mr Frost is often judged a cold killer – and at best is dismissed brusquely as generally, often … (Read More)
Kim was pleased: a foul day up on higher Dartmoor and it was as deserted as hoped-for. Some real peace and quiet, at last, far away from anyone prying. A stumble near the edge while up high on a tor without a known name, a long way from any road, had been scary but for … (Read More)
She had a cat called Sid and a husband named James; she would introduce them as “Sid, James”. In the main only older people got the joke though. Neither Sid nor James made her laugh much anyway. ********** James cycled to work every morning, spent the day carving – mainly funeral stuff – at a … (Read More)