Prose: Winter

I dressed to please him, hoping in vain to detect a glint of approval in the ice-blue eyes that so matched his name. Herr Winter, our Special Weapons instructor, showed no sign of favour as he took us through our drills yet again: The killer scent spray, a single press Chanel No.5, a rapid coded […]

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Poem: To Edith (no. 2)

To Edith. (no. 2) I lost a love, and I was lost. After the numbness, the disbelief, Denial and anger, I found myself again, or so I thought, I found another. But how much is my need? How much my fantasies – projected on another. How does the arrogance of “I Love you” Demand a […]

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Prose: The Visitors

THE VISITORS The children were the first to see Them as They slipped from Whenever to Now. There was barely a ripple in the reality curtain and the visitors were suddenly there, looking as permanent and established as a favourite view of a mountain, or a preloved teddy-bear dozing on a pillow. The children were […]

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Prose: The Red Car

From the road, the little red car looked like a new toy parked on the gravelled forecourt in front of the old farmhouse. A white police car was slewed across the drive way, blocking its escape. The bodies of the two policemen lay like discarded rag dolls between them. Logan uncurled his long body from […]

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Prose: The Recluse

No-one knew for sure who had taken the old captain’s house, up there, high on the cliff. There was gossip in the village of course. Mrs Binns, in the local shop, was the most vocal. Righteous anger or sour grapes, she had been hoping for a bit of business; the silver Rolls Royce, with its […]

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Prose: The Music

THE MUSIC How to describe the indescribable? I am an old man now, yet if I close my eyes and listen carefully, I can hear the music still; or rather the ghost of the music, and I am transported back to my tenth year. I remember that day well. It was a bright clear day […]

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Prose: The Mountain

There, on the sheer southwest rock face of the widow maker, the concept of “mountain” is too large to grasp. His full attention is concentrated on the red granite six inches in front of his eyes, on the pressure of his body against the rock, on the tiny cracks and concavities that his restless fingers […]

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Prose: The Jonathan Task

Write three sentences about self embodying the three principles of creative writing. 1: Structure. 2: A Creative Idea. 3: The Magic of Language. Why am I a Writer? I love words: Gay little words like GAY (now forever perverted and besmirched); long words like circumlocution; rumbustious words like boisterous and obstreperous; Rabelaisian words such as […]

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Prose: The Interview

THE INTERVIEW “Well, that concludes the first part of the interview.” His kindly brown eyes regarded me across the desk as his left hand sought and found a bell-push to his right. “Miss Smith will escort you to the executive tea room. She will fetch you back here in twenty minutes. I think we have […]

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