Dearest, I am writing to say thanks for thinking of me but no thanks. My hands are in the soil and my body in the water and my mouth is singing. These things take me away from you and the world we inhabit together. Let me go, for trying to stay splinters who I am … Continue reading Postcard from the North
Category: Prose
Bambi
He kindly agreed to drive her to the station, despite the early morning shadow fog. His weathered hands grip the steering wheel as he peers short-sightedly into the gloom. She should have insisted on driving herself - just how much can he actually see? She strains her eyes for him and watches the road in … Continue reading Bambi
Nearly Two
Dear Readers, It has been a mental year. The Brexit merry-go-round continues with predictably awful consequences. Over a million people have died from Covid and infection rates rise/fall/rise. Police keep killing unarmed black civilians. There have been riots. Protests. Strikes. Another global recession and U.S. election is upon us. As well as floods. Forest fires. … Continue reading Nearly Two
A Room of One’s Own Revisited
I have a room of my own. The smallest in the house. I can see the garden and the seasons changing in front of my window. Sometimes, all the seasons pass in a single day. There is one bookshelf full of books and pictures line the walls. These pictures have been carefully curated and hung … Continue reading A Room of One’s Own Revisited
Corona Clothing
It seems to me Corona Clothing is all the rage – though nobody currently calls it that. Rather, it is known as Working From Home clothes or What Day Is It clothes or We Don’t Have Enough clothes. Despite, or because of the pandemic, having the right kind of clothing is now, a matter of … Continue reading Corona Clothing
Barefoot Sociologist 