There is the smooth feeling of the bike, sucking up the asphalt and attaching itself to the road until you can cycle so quickly that you zip down with the flat rubbery hum of the tyres and the sheets of sound that tell of passing cars and then the squall of the half-gripping-brakes and the stopping in the fumes at the traffic lights and then on ( Read more... )

When she was dying, he would hold her hand and talk to her about everything in his head. He gave her his world and between every memory, every piece of him, he would ask her “How does it feel?”
            Her answers became confused near the end.

The man isn’t crying as he remembers. The heat is too great. The earth seems hard today and all ( Read more... )

Later he steps through the door. Mud on his shoes. Jane sets the fire burning and even in the yellow glow his veins are very blue. He lets himself sit down.
            Jane sits by the hearth, watching him. He is so far away. A big cold rock, come in for the night. She remembers: interests: hiking. New places. She is afraid that she is looking ( Read more... )

You see a lot of them - these bubble gum girls. The scary thing is that you can’t ignore them. They walk past when you’re in the bar, making pasta or minding your own business with a friend. They come in all shapes and sizes and the best thing about meeting them is that in that first question and answer you know them for who they really are.
        ( Read more... )

I am good. I have been on holiday for a week and a half. I lived with ELla in birmingham for a week, then I came back to Norwich with the intention of doing work - I've done some - but then everything's gone a bit strange and amazing. Transmissions is actually happening now (the magazine) because a good friend - Khalid - is helping me out. This ( Read more... )

Jeez...been fucking ages since I've posted anything.

Basically I've been ludicrously busy. This term has been a time of reflection for me and a pretty sobering one at that.

I KNOW where I want to be by the time I finished UEA. I know WHAT I need to do to get there and most of all I've realised quite how hard my dream job is.

I want to be a journalist ( Read more... )

 After my parents went to ash I fled from the countryside. I and the rest of my lonely generation sought each other out in the great and sombre cities. We went to the capitals and the industrial centres and rebuilt them for high speed between the lives that were left. I was an architect. And me and a thousand others streamlined skyscrapers and ( Read more... )

Stepping Out - A tragedy in three parts.

i

‘Let’s go back.’
            ‘Why?’
            ‘It’s cold. I’m all wet. I don’t like it.’
            Another wave breaks around our feet. Saltspray in my eyes and I can’t see but that doesn’t matter to her. She grins, standing on the rock - the ( Read more... )

Mountaintop.

Together we trudge valleys
Shucked from ancient stones.
The land stretches out, fierce as ice.
On the mountain it snows.

Months later and her ashes are in the ground.
I still feel the mountains. I still feel the air.

Plane takes off: pressure in my head.
I cry in the seat, fearing a stroke, an explosion.
She sits ( Read more... )

Ever try ballroom dancing to drumnbass? It’s hard, but that’s how we met. I felt crazy so I grabbed her and she span round, smiling. I took her hand and somehow she knew what to do. We fooled around; walking through jungles of limbs, pirouetting in turn. I knew her face but not her name. She had dark hair, a red dress and tiny cowboy ( Read more... )