Born 1958. One wife, one daughter, and one black labrador dog called Isaac. Self-publishing online since 2000. Personal website at http://edwardpicot.com - with my creative work on it. I also run The Hyperliterature Exchange at http://hyperex.co.uk - reviews and criticism, mostly about hyperliterature.
"A tall thin old man comes backwards slowly and carefully through the glass door, carrying a metal stepladder in one hand, and in the other a small pot of paint and a small brush. With an air of methodical tidiness, he leans the stepladder against the front of a left-hand stall, stands the pot of paint next to it, places the small brush sideways across the exact centre of the top of the pot."
"They heard Dixon's foot. A stern thought compressed her brows, and set her teeth. It was Dixon's measured tread. They heard her walk."
Continuing the abridged version of Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South - abridged on the principle of leaving out all the important bits. The sinister Dixon may or may not be dead. The long-awaited Frederick arrives at last, only to be no more spoken of. Margaret fancies porters.