The Jury and the Judge
Cobwebbed Bakelite, his hands are skeletal receiver heavy, weighted with the lead of words he never should have said. A vow, for this? The telephone is black and tick-tack of […]
Cobwebbed Bakelite, his hands are skeletal receiver heavy, weighted with the lead of words he never should have said. A vow, for this? The telephone is black and tick-tack of […]
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis