Category Archives: Creative Writing

Beachcombing

March 21st. Something of a blogging fulcrum (which sounds like a fruity insult – ‘a rich epithet’, as an elderly neighbour of ours referenced last week, in relation to a phrase which had fallen from her lips), by which is … Continue reading

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Streetlights

About the new streetlights, the instinct is strong to refer to a ‘they’ who’ve made the changes. A Larkin mindset: world, unseen or in shadows, of clerks and cabinets. But that ‘they’ is gone, replaced by something glaring and tough, … Continue reading

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Everything I Do Gohn Be Funky

It might have been in Crouch End, it might’ve been in Camden. Either way, a pub on a work night. The very early nineties. Open mic, I heard a lovely lilting version of Elvis’s G.I. Blues. And then the same … Continue reading

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My October Symphony, Part 6 – Fishing with Dad

Dad, with some coaxing, sits down next to me on the bench outside his room. Shoulder to shoulder, the both of us facing the fence, beyond which the motorway sounds like the ocean. The cubes of beige cake on the … Continue reading

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Yellow Morning

As quietly I spoon the coffee into the little basket, I hear the rain. On the big green parasol. All the leaves are friendly. It’s a yellow morning. Sometimes the cat wants to come inside, decisively, in rain like this. … Continue reading

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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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