Although they stood only five yards away from George, the pair of them were quite oblivious to his presence. As they spoke about their plans for the weekend – she was visiting her mother in Surrey, he and his son were going watch the football – a large bug got caught in the woman’s hair.
I get pulled out of class, and as the howls of derision fade, each knock of Mr Beach’s walking stick on the floor of the deserted corridor escalates The Fear inside, so that by the time I see them sitting there in his office, smiling desperate smiles, I almost don’t notice the fact they are holding hands and so something awful has happened.
Hello, everyone! Back to school, back to work. August saw almost no writing get done because I made the decision early in the school holidays that I didn’t want to get frustrated so made zero […]
You use 40 percent less energy in the peloton. A life spent in the service of others, dragging them up mountains, ferrying them down the other side.
Hello all. I’ve been getting twitchy lately and I think I know why. While working on the novel, I’ve missed the immediate satisfaction of flash fiction and the thought has crossed my mind that I find writing shorter fiction far more enjoyable.
She walks east. Tick tick tick tick, a woodpecker tapping at the side of her brain. Tick tick tick tick. Countless tiny brass squares of the city’s shame underfoot, unforgotten. Each has one word in […]
OK, so here’s the opening 1,500 words of The Great Weight of Ordeals. The story is set in 2005, at the end of an emotional summer for London. I hope you like it and it whets your […]