I woke one morning and couldn’t get out of bed

Eventually I did, I went through the motions


The darkness was deep

I kept people at a distance



Am I still too close?



The sound of a child singing took my attention

The words weren’t clear but the melody was soothing


After a while, I realised the singing had stopped

The melody played





Art in the Meat Isle

Red paint spattered the butcher’s apron

His tightly stretched canvas was visibly distressed


An unearthly knell resounded across the meadow

Prospective buyers elbowed for the spoils of breakfast



Beautiful rain has been falling all night
The temperature is back to normal for this time of year
For days and nights snow had fallen and frozen
Paths were cleared and gritted
To be covered and recovered
A picturesque vista

This morning
I open the curtains
The snow and ice have gone
The street looks tired with potholes and puddles
A trail of grit marks a pathway to the primary school
Where cigarette buts crowd the entrance


time travel

I’ve been on this journey forever
having left the station at nineteen seventy-two
it feels like a lifetime ago

moving at a constant one second per second
so they say
I’m not convinced
I’m sure I feel us gently accelerating
the child sitting next to me disagrees

my memories of the departure are hazy
I forget where I am sometimes
the landscape changes
but remains the same

we all have the same destination
everyone I’ve spoken to

but confusingly we don’t agree on the time of arrival

hers is later
his is sooner

it has been a tiring journey
sitting here what feels like my whole life
my body is starting to ache
I will be glad to reach the destination

I need the rest