Many of you will have noticed that it’s coming up to summer, the season where that yellow ball of fire in the sky reminds us that one day it will expand and wipe us all out in an instantaneous fiery blast.1 Many of us – myself included – will be indulging in lounging about in … Read more
Until the Call I can’t promise to never leave you. I can’t promise it, no matter what my heart wants to say, because there are lands that I will have to explore on my own: lands that we grow to in time.
Every Little Absence My heart is heavy. The hours stretch since I have heard your voice: I feel angry at myself. At my own stupidity, my heavy heart.
Mountain Rescue Melanie woke up shivering, her forearm resting on the bare stone. It was still dark, something that didn’t seem to change about this mountain range; it had been well over a week since she had seen the sun, only a shade longer than she had been in the mountains. She was lost, that … Read more
New Tornmile, ‘Plebgate’ revelations, a complete lack of apocalypse (well, of course you really expect one?): it’s been a hell of a busy week. Today I worked a few more hours than usual, since it was the last day before the Christmas holidays and we were a bit short staffed. So after an extra 3 … Read more
So, play proposals has come and gone, which means I have some news: my plays The Way Things Are and Now or Never, which follow the same main characters at two different parts of their lives are going to be out on by Leicester University Theatre on 5-7 March 2013 under the umbrella title of … Read more
In Memoriam In Normandy amongst fields of green I saw rows of graves, white and clean Those who in the war gave their lives They liberated France, but what survives? What lessons do these graves now tell? Should we, the young, give our lives as well? I touch the stone of a soldier unknown Should … Read more
Tornmile Part XVII: A New Venture Brielle huddled close to Darian as they moved out of Ferrer’s complex and into the street outside. Darian’s curricle stood opposite the entrance to the complex, the horses’ reins being held by a middle aged man with specks of silver in his black hair. He had a strong jaw … Read more
Ambitions If I could write as well as Wendy I’d be happy. I’d take any kind of torment on the chin. Even if both my eyes went completely blurry I’d write and write and never lose my grin.