The Other Side of Madness…

"You know," a friend confessed, "my writing was much better when I was suffering." We were talking about breakdowns. The terrible journey we had taken from the staright path of normality. Some years back, we had both hit our walls. We were both in professions that indicated our public spirit and quests to improve things.... Continue Reading →

Do Not Suffer A Witch…

We tended to do most of our shared work after the sun had fallen. Old Leather seems to like it that way. It’s amazing what can evade notice in such a place as this. Imagine, if you will, a corpse strolling along any major high-street in any town or city in the UK, and then... Continue Reading →

On Being Average…

The world is full of inspirational stories; ones that make you feel humble and ones that force you to count your blessings. It’s good advice, but please forgive me for not letting it lead my life. In the kingdom of the blind, the one eyed man is king. I don’t wish to be king and... Continue Reading →

Purposeful Hand Usage…And Satisfaction

Purposeful hand use enhances well-being in a technologically saturated culture. Research has shown that creating or tending things by hand enhances our mental health and makes us happy.  Dr. Kelly Lambert (bertlab.com) explored the relationship between hand use, current cultural habits, and mood.  She found that hands-on work satisfies our primal need to make things... Continue Reading →

An Eve Tit-Bit…

Surprises. The boy was a surprise; he really was. My last recollection of him was as I was falling and he was falling too, but on top of me. My exhaustion had burnt a hole through my resistance and he was about to take advantage. His hot body, stinking of sweat, reeking of something else... Continue Reading →

Writing about character…

I thought I would share these two extracts that were written many years apart. My character, Liam Flowers has changed and grown. He still carries the scars of his previous incarnation. Older and wiser, he cannot escape his narrative arc. From The Piper Book of Hearts Liam Since he had moved in with The Leatherman,... Continue Reading →

Another Morsel Of Eve…

I tried to tiptoe past them. I didn’t want to make a noise because I had a memory of a huge canine with slavering jaws and yellow, razor-sharp teeth. But as I was moving through the sea of buckets, I looked at their contents.  The liquid was not rain. For a start it was viscous... Continue Reading →

Lost Christmas…9

The nights are cold. There is never enough warmth from the others. There are times when I think that they must not notice me. I walk so close to the walls that I have become accustomed to mixing with shadows. The kiosk man sees me. The boy came on the second night of the falling.... Continue Reading →

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