Dedicated publisher of fiction, poetry and memoir
The wind sweeps over the Gulf of Triestethey say it will be storm force by morningclouds scud with anticipationrains fail to fall.When I was in school, during heavy rainswe spent 'wet playtime' reading comic bookscross-legged on the parquet floorof the school hall.Will we be home for Christmas?I wonder, then I laugh at myself rememberingbeing home... Continue Reading →
I've the next chapter waiting in the wings, but my son's been quarantined because of a case of Covid in the nursery. Furthermore, the laundry's piling up, and there are groceries to buy, and everyone needs their tea. This is the kind of writer's block I experience. The words are always there, but sometimes I... Continue Reading →
This morning, upon wakeningthe day's beginning welcomingI sought a different song to sing. I listened to the birds outsidewhose joy it would be hard to hideand wondered how I might abidewithout such gentle carolling. I listened to the cricket-songwhich stayed with me the whole day longand even once the day was gonecontinued, faintly murmuring. I... Continue Reading →
Prime Minister Burris Jackson addresses the people of Brexitannia, after the Corollavirus outbreak has been declared a pandemic by the World Health Organisation... "We face an invisible, unprecedented enemy. We are fighting a foe we cannot see, with the simple tools of soap, water, and our own singing voices. Remember to wash your hands for... Continue Reading →
Persephone's bedchamberor was itBertha Mason?Here, where she went madrending her hair and whatnotthe way women dowhen the womb wandersnothing for it thenlock them upleave food outside the doorhear her howling at the moonno one would ever love herno never, never, neverexcept perhapsthat Darklordwho calls to pull her underthe bedis a chamberpotabovea crystal chandeliertake the rope... Continue Reading →
It's getting closer to home now: easy to ignore unliveable wet bulb temperatures in the Indus Valley, perhaps, but when whole towns are decimated just down the road in Germany, even the ears of the deaf start to prick up. Still want your pipeline now, Angela? Meanwhile, across the Channel, the new Health Secretary has... Continue Reading →
Surely this is the best time of year to be where I am, right here. I've never spent early summer on the Slovenian coast before. To go from Andalusia to Northern Slovenia last year was too much of a wrench, I felt that I'd been almost instantaneously robbed of summer. In southern Spain, this time... Continue Reading →
How can they not know you?You whose voice moves meyou sing songs of truthto a world looking the other way. You whose voice moves meand moves all others who can hearhow can they not hear you? You sing songs of truthsome people do not want to hear the truthcomforted by denial. To a world looking... Continue Reading →
I write my heart out down the page in big, bold letters: HereEverAfterReadTruth I also write my truth. What is my truth? ToReceive Understanding Travel Here Travel where? To the: Compass-defyingEternalNeverlandTidalReciprocalEden If I’d used American English, this would have read ‘Eden Reciprocal.’ Perhaps it would have sounded better. Still, it’s the same place: the centre of a black... Continue Reading →
The labyrinth of life. There's no ball of string for it, is there? And it seems to be full of Minotaurs. At some point in early childhood, you become aware that one day you are going to die, and you might well ask: 'What the hell does it all mean then?' I remember wondering if... Continue Reading →
Experiments in Fiction 