It is my father’s birthday, and I spray magic on his tombstone, expecting not resurrection but cleansing Surprisingly, the dirt falls away, and his name becomes clearer: I wait for half an hour as instructed, then do it again, and…
Thank you to the two people who responded to my few paragraphs last time and said they would like me to continue with the story. As this is a surprisingly high number of people even reading my posts, let alone…
Here where the road ends (So long, Mary Ann) the blood-red moon shadows the thin lighthouse and I am faced at last with that long-approaching menace, unable to answer questions because your face is blurred Back in Ward 14B they…
Read: Into the sea
Faint sound of bagpipes in the shower room: a nice touch, otherwise just what I might expect: everything stripped down bare Nothing to complain about: clean, neat, white, neat, empty Nothing left lying about: no sign of life at all,…
Read: Hotel room
Over the years, I’ve started writing many works of fiction and finished a few. The other day I came across this one. These are the first four paragraphs. Do you think it’s worth continuing? Sally-Anne McTell was born clinging to wreckage….
White claws ready to strike from overhanging bushes ice re-forming on hidden water the sudden sound of silence under grey blankets the solidity of cold slowing the universe down I stop and reach for fire using the speed of light…
Read: The solidity of cold
An unexpected phone call recently led to an enjoyable visit from Mike Read, one of Norfolk’s top chess players – but one who achieved his peak performances in a specialised form of the game. Mike is a Senior International Master in correspondence chess….
A poor woman walks across the landscape carrying fuel for her fire Stopping and looking, the painter includes her in his masterpiece I carry no fuel: I dream of mountains and summer lakes Can I be included in God’s masterpiece…
Read: Landscape
Having a certain fondness for Gavin and Stacey, I was not unhappy to journey down to Barry Island in South Wales on a snowy Sunday recently. The primary reason for going was to transport my wife to a Philosophy4Children training session…
There are runners on the path: my father died today, my mother in two days’ time, nearly 40 years apart and we are all heading in the same direction, downwards and upwards In the end we are memories, dependent on…
Read: Runners