Fiction

  • Books and Reality

    I’ve had thousands of best friends and hundreds of mortal enemies. I’ve been married a hundred times and divorced a hundred times more than that, probably. I’ve had lovers aplenty, built homes, mucked stables…and all this time, I’ve insisted I… Continue reading

  • Peace In The Sky

    Sun looked at Moon and smiled. ‘Look, Moon, here is your story,’ Sun said, as he held up a shine much like his own bright golden rays. Moon frowned, and drifted into the space where Sun held the golden droplet.… Continue reading

  • A Little Time Away

    My dear bloggy friends, I’ve been thinking on a more practical level (which, let me tell you, is highly unusual in the world of this cloud bouncing dreamer) and my thoughts have led me to a little bloggy holiday. I’m… Continue reading

  • Shining Humans

    ‘Hello, Moon,’ said Sun, as he watched her rise above the sea to meet him in the orange sky. ‘Hello, dear Sun. Must we always meet like this? I’d rather hoped we might run, today.’ Sun looked at Moon and… Continue reading

  • Books Vs Social Media

    I’m reading again. I’m reading a lot, actually. My goodness, it’s all the lovely things. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to read for all the years books went missing from my life. I blamed it on the quick and… Continue reading

  • It’s Not A Problem

    If you’re a reader, you are about to read a blog post which will echo through the pits of your soul. It’s not a problem, we all know this. But whenever us readers are faced with this sort of conundrum,… Continue reading

  • Beautiful

    A face in the mirror; a gentle head tilt; a naked, swan neck. Her fingers find the soft of her collar bone and drift upward: chin, cheek, forehead— every part of her, delicate. Like a bird, she thinks. The mirror… Continue reading

  • Don’t Knock the Dreamers

    She bit off a giant chunk of hazelnut pancake, and ugly chewed. He raised his fork, and his eyebrow. She winked, and went on chewing loudly until her mouth was empty. ‘Don’t knock the dreamers,’ she said, then she handed… Continue reading

  • A Friend Of Convenience

    Her art is a friend of convenience. It absorbs her. It turns her delicate into raw and beautiful scenes of naked flesh on linen. It turns her hard into lashings of angry black with no recognisable form. The artist removes… Continue reading

  • The Happy Driver

    Arki was a taxi driver, but in his heart he was a writer. He knew he was a writer because the words never stopped racing in his mind until they were out. Neither did the joyous feeling they stirred in… Continue reading