I. Martel’s Position Martel’s position is a strange one, very strange. Yes, strange, strange is the only word. […]
short story
Clouds open like envelopes. My fingers touch a damp sponge to white. I have limited time. Water trickles […]
The headline read: “An icicle wedged totally through a man’s skull!” The article was in reference to a […]
The Tutor Arrives There is a bowl of fruit and a glass of still water arranged neatly on […]
Lying on his back, a sandal on, the other foot is pink and bare and still. There are […]
Moss woke at 6am to the din of pots clattering in the kitchen below. The dog scratched urgently […]
Most six o’clocks I’m still in the van. Winding round the back roads, just leaving a job, leaving […]
When we meet, we talk about the tree. Then again, there isn’t much else to talk about for […]
Six hours a day we had lessons in the kitchen. History, Literature, Art, Geography, Music, Natural Sciences. Instead […]
For R.B. She is thinking about the man who spent a year in Germany studying Hölderlin before giving […]
minor literature[s] 