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OK, I admit it: I’m not a hero.
When my heartbeat returned to its normal rate the idea of marching upstairs and into Matt’s room to hun..
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It was only a short ride
to Charlie’s road but I fidgeted in my seat the whole way, hands raining
highly-strung drum solos upon my knees; ..
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“Hey, old woman! Shouldn’t you be gardening or something?”
The café was half-full and several people shifted in their hard..
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mopping, take a moment to energise yourself on the craziest broom-stick rodeo never seen
and practise laughing aloud, without a trace of self-consc..
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True story...
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ONE
en masse, people make no sense
and too much noise
the individual is devoured
in a gulp of instinct
mutated through lack of use
recording..
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This is what happens when you read the Beckett Trilogy...
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Thursday’s light, poking through the gap in her bedroom curtains, insisted that it was a beautiful day and that Katherine should get up, so she ..
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They were right about this planet,
you know: ‘tis a flat-screen
and we droop across its landscape
like the dregs of a 3am house party
[idly..
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My best friend, Perry, is dead.
I didn’t do it; I came home and found him that way.
It had been a regular, limp Tuesday and I’d had n..
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