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FICTION

March 28, 2018

This is how it begins. 

You notice him across the small square of dance floor at a disco in the city. He is a blur, moving in time with the music, with his long arms splayed at right angles to his torso and his head bent low as if listening to the rhythm of his feet. He is a shadow, appearing and then disappearing as the disco lights move across the room.

He is dancing alone on the crowded floor with his eyes closed, and he...

March 15, 2018

I am a terrible mother and a good liar. At least I think that’s the right way around. If not then I’m a good mother and a terrible liar. I’m not sure that I could say which is worse.

Marcus asked me about it yet again this morning, as we sat and ate breakfast. He likes to do that, you see, doing the same thing at the same time of day, every day. It’s one of the things that make him feel secure, in a world that is continually ch...

October 9, 2017

Aiden woke up on the floor of a toilet cubicle in Marylebone station. His body was curled up, foetal-like, against the cold metal of the bowl. His head pulsed at the temples, his skin warm and clammy. He wasn’t wearing any shoes. He blinked wearily, taking in his new surroundings, and then steadied himself to his feet. In the adjacent cubicle, he heard the jangling of a belt, the closing of a zip, a toilet flush. Aiden waited...

July 25, 2017

Any similarity to actual aliens, living or dead, is purely coincidental…


October 10th, 2017 was a day when big things happened. It could be argued that big things happen every day, relatively speaking – people are born, people die, families break up, humans break down, civil wars break out over the correct way to make tea - all of these are big things to the people involved.

October 10th though was a day when two REALLY big t...

July 21, 2017

A story inspired by a pair of brown boots and a Bruce Springsteen song 

Jack was drunk. Not unusual, especially at this time: just gone midnight, Wednesday becoming Thursday. It was the same as Monday rolling into Tuesday, Friday merging into Saturday. Jack sat alone in his usual spot at the bar of The Sad A – formerly The A Minor, after the guitar chord. The name had to be changed because underaged kids assumed it was an easy...

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