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  1. Slice of Diary

    Slice of Diary

    The foghorn moans through the white sky.

    The land is grey, of pebble-dash, and is saturated and sad. Both man and a dog scamper over cliff top before the fall, and there unseen at the base of a cliff lies the cagoule, his face placed in the stones. The dog barks, mad, bad, back and forth he climbs the cliff face, chases obscene scent of nothing, chases his tail.

    ‘Over here, good boy,’ I cry from my window ledge, yet the fog occludes [hew]

    This is home where I scribble. Sometimes I live there a lot. When things are rocky I close the site down, like when I embarrass myself, y'know, or when the despair rings my every rocking. In my rocker. My rocker ringed in black ribbon, black dog at my knee, black Peter visiting once a year, Black Betty every night, black powder piled in my cellar.


    Love, Betty
  3. Christmas Dinner 2020

    Christmas Dinner 2020

    by brightonsauce

    dr1, 20 minutes, will transform toward great novel, in literature. Group gargle scene is presently in progress…

    Christmas Dinner 2020

    Ethel and Frank stood in the porch, the many wrapped gifts at their feet.

    ‘Well Ethel, finally, and finally the opportunity to dispense these fine boxes from Amazon.’

    ‘From Santa,’ chided Ethel. ‘We made it, Honey for Christmas with the family.’

    Updated November 20th, 2020 at 02:33 PM by Matchu

  4. A Letter Home

    by , November 18th, 2020 at 11:49 PM (A Creative Spirit in Portugal)
    In February, I joined a local writing group which we managed to keep alive via Zoom once the Coronavirus struck. One of our assignments was to write a letter.

    Hi Mum,

    We have finally arrived in the Moorish town of Aljezur on the West Coast of Portugal. Despite Dad’s reservations, Jason’s decrepit, converted bus served us well as both a means of transport and accommodation. However, Dad was right about one thing: I do miss my creature comforts such as regular showers and ...
  5. Show & Tell 3 of Many

    How about a little me time
    A good place to turn the chicken loose to scratch the bottom of my cage

    Considering me, how much time do I put into being just me and not just who I should be or an adaptation for pleasing other
    In my day job this aspect was substantial as you needed to project a trust me I know what I'm doing persona

    But Im talking just being me

    Other than orientating for others most of the time I'm more like water I flow into the shapes ...

    Updated November 12th, 2020 at 11:52 PM by Gofa (Spelling)

  6. Show and Tell 2 of Many

    Number two

    Thanks Dither, your comment is much appreciated.

    Im here remembering again.

    The piece I will get to was written in hospital 5 or so years ago after falling or actually stepping off a motorised skate board at say 30 to 40 kph. I hyper extended both knees split my tibia and basically crashed head over heels a fair few times. I was wearing full motor cross body armour helmet wrist knee elbow supports or lets face I would been dead

    In ...
  7. Show and Tell 1 of Many

    This is not easy

    I'm surprised at how truly gut wrenchingly difficult it is
    I’ve written and posted this blog once before and deleted it
    I am trying to reframe to myself that this is a good idea for me as it crystallizes self identity and self acceptance

    but but but

    Telling the truth about my life and experiences has been a no go area even to good friends


    People like me are fun on TV but pretty disturbing in real
  8. Lest We Forget - Remembrance Sunday

    by , November 8th, 2020 at 12:38 PM (A Creative Spirit in Portugal)
    poppy field.jpg

    Two minutes silence marks your death
    as we the nation remember
    your sacrifice, with respect.
    The silence echoes our private grief
    while we the nation mourn our heroes.

    Heroes, born to die in far away places
    in battles old and new.
    Haunting bugles lament your loss
    while the Big Guns, salute you.
    And we the nation remember
    as we find solace in our thoughts.

    Red poppies ...

    My short story 'Big Dog In Persia' will be broadcast on the Harry Whitaker Show, BBC Radio York, tomorrow evening 4th November at about 19:30 GMT, I think. I'm interviewed 'live' at 7.45 - so that will be horrific, obvs...

    So, that's good, eh? They had me in the studios back in February, the night of the first English COVID case, in York. That time I read 'Mudland.' Should really get Mudland published, and my Big Dog.

    All best,

  10. What You Wish For

    Feel that invisible line marking the creation of a glorious future, and put a torch to a less-than-glorious past. You see it. But the past is never in reality as you remember it. And the future? Often less than glorious. Sometimes, far, far less.

    At a time and space ahead, you will look back at your wake. Sure, ‘they’ could have adapted to your new “better” world… but you knew they wouldn’t. And as you judged them for being inflexible, opinionated and unfeeling. You slowly ...
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