Short and sweet. One of the things I’ve utterly failed to grips with, on moving south, is the lack of winter. I mean, being from Yorkshire, I’m used to deep … Continue reading
Fat land, moss wadded, pushes against my feet, carrying me to the bridge; held in the scent of warm brine and red fescue. Swaddled by wind fingers, I … Continue reading
There is a car rot on the lawn; the on ly ev idence that we once had snow. Win … Continue reading
From beside a sun- paled bridge – enamel petals falling, brickle and bleached – I watch the mounting satellite – wan-creeping above bitter horizon – over looking-glass spatters of … Continue reading
He wanted to know why we didn’t go out at night. I did a double take. I thought it was obvious.
“Yes, I understand that those creatures are out there. Is that the only reason?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
He smiled and said,