The Breathing of Souls: Halloween audio flash

The Breathing of Souls In the walls of buildings, between the splinters of wood and the specks of brick dust, souls trapped by the circumstance of material change, huddle and stretch by turns; making space to breathe, wearing down the solid things that keep them there, and waiting for their time to come. When it does and when, in the physical world liquids harden and become unyielding; in the metaphysical, the warp and weft of buildings begins to soften, loosening its grip and making room for the imminent exchange. Then, breath becomes an instrument of penetration, and the souls sigh … Continue reading The Breathing of Souls: Halloween audio flash

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‘Drop Dead Gorgeous’ – a Halloween(ish) tale of a ghostly (maybe) gran

Drop Dead Gorgeous – a Halloween(ish) tale of ghosts (maybe) and quantum phasing (your guess is as good as mine). Bit sweary so don’t let the kids loose. I first met Dillon when my dead Gran tripped me up in front of him. There was me, meandering along the sea front watching small dogs on extending leads crochet themselves into yapping compounds each time they encountered others of their ilk; and there was he, arrowing through them, the sleek lycra-ed warp to their woof. I was ok but he landed up in hospital with several broken bones and his bike … Continue reading ‘Drop Dead Gorgeous’ – a Halloween(ish) tale of a ghostly (maybe) gran

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‘Jussdeserts’ – Flash Flood flash fiction

People with intellectual disabilities want to be like everyone else which means they want jobs. But first, there aren’t enough jobs; second, there aren’t enough jobs for people who need support; third, what jobs there are often don’t pay; and fourth, the people who take them with hope and gratitude are frequently bullied straight out of them. Those things are fact; Jussdeserts is fiction, but only juss. Flash Flood, June 24th. Edited 24/06/17 to include direct link Continue reading ‘Jussdeserts’ – Flash Flood flash fiction

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Green Buses: a story and an appeal

The four year old girl crouched in the footwell has never heard of christmas and wouldn’t care if she had. She stares at her hands and wipes them on the pink anorak that used to fit but now hangs more loosely from her shoulders.   The twelve year old boy next to her is angry and feels himself uprooted and displaced. He has heard of christmas but he blames the westeners who celebrate it for where he finds himself. His eyes tell simultaneously of a child’s dark despair and the blazing hatred of the adult he will become. He is … Continue reading Green Buses: a story and an appeal

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‘Ør1g1ns’

“Slick as oil over water, Katia headed for the house of the man whose dreams she needed to reprogramme. She shifted through his bedroom wall like damp through old bricks to wait by his cot for the right moment. Then, as his eyes began to flick back and forth and his long limbs twitched, she bent close to his ear, reintroducing the precious seed stolen by the Reversionists to demolish the future.” In ZeroFlash in response to prompt including, um, zeros! Continue reading ‘Ør1g1ns’

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In Memory of Shoreham August 22nd 2015

On August 22nd 2015, a display jet failed to pull out of a loop and ploughed into traffic waiting at lights on a main road near the airport. Eleven people died. Two pieces – a poem and a story – in the anthology Let Me Tell You a Story were written in response by authors who lived nearby. These are free to read and hear from August 1st in memory of those who died.     News report Contains video and still images. Continue reading In Memory of Shoreham August 22nd 2015

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