Category: Fiction

Rain slants across the valley. The sky black as a valley floor, weighty as valley walls...

‘I love Christmas!’ Cyst was angrily untangling some tinsel...

Finding Under Difficult Circumstances by Pam Swanborough By the time you read this anything might have happened. She might have fallen in love by the time you read this. By the time you read this she might be dead. For that’s just how it works. Don’t feel bad for reading. It’s just how things work.… Continue reading Finding Under Difficult Circumstances →

Iseult lived by the water. She lived by the wide brown river. Her eyes were brown and her skin was brown. Iseult lived by the water and she didn’t know she was drowning.

Uncurls the fern in spring’s dawny damp; unfurls the shawling wind across the falling heights of winter’s decay.

Wind runs strong from the home of Morningstar, I’ll hunt at Old Farm, for Cold Farm will smell me coming tonight...

Mather the thief pushed through the stink of people at Covent market, eyed the singer’s begging-bowl of pinchbeck, moved on