The Messengers

The sun was trying to get into the house blue at the windows blue at the open door cool flagstones on bare feet as I worked up a sweat on the bread dough the open mouth of the oven as I slipped the loaves inside the cat asleep on the Aga lid the kind of […]

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Trying to make a gardenout of bird branches, nettles, dry grasses,a wooden shed with slatted sides,falling down and into itself. Trying to alive a gardenout of weeds and light through leaves,to grow a garden, to mound a gardenout of sycamore keys and thistle-prickle. Trying to Christmas a garden, to Easter a gardento flap a wing […]

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Working From Home

They’re working on that spy plane again; first the scrapy sounds of sanding – on and on it goes, all morning, and now they’re rolling something that sounds like a skateboard along the dining room wall. The sporty one arrives home and starts to unload the camera equipment from the boot of his Fiat Punto […]

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There is no proof that I exist beyond the mess I’ve made of the house and garden, and a few texts on my mobile phone. I will leave this world lightly – barely a fingerprint will remain. Even children move on – as if all those day in, day outs were only a blink – […]

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In the first hospital

your body turned into a cushion, it was the drugs you said and the daily puddings, as if sponge and custard could fix those bothersome brains. The man in the next bed was crying for his mother and there was a woman who kept knocking her head on the wall, come in, she said, come […]

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