There’s a mother and son I’ve not seen in a while. They’re regulars in the local park, like me. Except that they walk their dogs while I walk by myself. I’m not too fond of their dogs. They’re small and yappy, and the mother and her adult son don’t call them away when they pester … More A mother and her son
The woman who works in the co-op walks up to me with a laugh on her lips and a light in her eyes as if she’s about to tell me a joke. She’s always there helping customers smooth wrinkly bar codes at the self-scan checkouts, speaking loud and clear for those who can’t hear, and … More Seeing double
Yesterday, I did something I’ve never done before. I went to the cinema in the afternoon, on my own. At least I can’t remember having done this before, but now a vague memory is whispering that this is not true and that many years ago, when I lived in Mainz in Germany, I fled a … More Alcarràs
I wrote the end of my story in a bit of a rush, delighted to have got the job done. One of my readers, who hasn’t yet got to that part, recently commented that the penultimate segment is a bit “traumatic“, and he queried: “does the story just drift to a heartbreaking close or is … More A great reveal
I looked out of the window at Saturday morning. It was cloudy, but not raining. I opened the front door to feel the air. It was cold, but not freezing. The day was growing light, a busy week was behind me and the next hour would be my own. As I crept out of the … More Saturday morning secret
On Aide-Mémoires: Shopping Lists – An Exhibition Lists – for bread and beer, red and green apples, dark soy sauce and cajun spice. Word associations with ‘Martha is crackers‘ and ‘Mummy is nuts‘. A child’s script. A spidery hand. (Mis-)spellings. On paper shaped as a dress or jotted with music. On the back of an … More Does Alan want cheese?
The grave of three men: Jobo, Cabo, Baco. They all look alike. Two could be brothers, the third could be the son of one, or a nephew, or a much younger brother. This youngest man (Cabo) died in 1943 at the age of 23. The 23-year-old man of a different family looks thoughtful and resolute. … More Montenegro Lives
I had all of Saturday to travel from Swansea in the West to Cambridge in the East, so I decided to stop mid-way. A refuge from the fast lane which promised to peel back the centuries. All the way to the sacred oaks of Awsty Wood, the marching feet of Roman legionnaires, and the group … More A Sanctuary
Some hours ago I went for a walk. I put on a podcast about pilgrimage (a subject pertinent to the project I was avoiding) and played a childish game: if I took the long route to the two-shelved mini-library three roads away, I might discover a book that would help. Stories of pilgrims filled my … More Miracles and games
Months and years of hard work and hope, flamed and scattered in post-exam joy. Dreams of a long summer whipped up in the park. In a matter of seconds, probably. Most of it is science: hydrogen and chromosomes; sclera and retina; by the anode; velocity; mitosis. Decimals, Dates, Formulae. Headings highlighted and thereby promoted. Words … More An Education
Have Paprika, Will Travel 