Category Archives: Creative Writing

Merely to Me

Merely at the end of July and there’s a clear whiff of Autumn moving in; here and thereabouts, in corners of the garden. It’s in the trees. It’s coming. The year as a mix-tape; the seasons on shuffle. Rain is … Continue reading

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Eat One Of It

We know – trust me, we do – that there’s just been the one mouse living in the big gap in the slabs at the top of the garden steps. I mean, these last few months. And Steps, by the … Continue reading

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The Clearout at the End of the Notebook

Rationalising the contents of the little brick sheds. In the opening scenes, a Tennents Lager ashtray hits me soundly on the head. Slapstick or hospital drama. There are boxes on boxes of old branded glassware: some for brands which barely saw … Continue reading

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Whizzfangles

Come up ten years, is, at this house and last night at just after midnight I saw the first fox I ever saw in the street there. Young one. All lithe and limber, springy. Black socks, high ears. Up over … Continue reading

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Girl, Dancing

A guitarist in a trilby hat (or is it a pork pie? There’s an hour to be lost in the researching), plays and sings to backing tracks; tonight’s entertainment on stage in the big pub in W_______. He cleverly segue-ways … Continue reading

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This Year

It’s only the 4th of January but it’s hard to imagine I’ll see a better thing on a screen this year than Olive Kitteridge (HBO, 2014). On top of its long and difficult beauty and humour, it throws us at … Continue reading

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Talking in Bed

This is a little sketch monologue I made this week, between jobs. I kind of let it go where it wanted to go, and that was as liberating as it sounds. And I mean for both the pictures and the … Continue reading

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