Trails of Blood on Paper

Old postcards written by people who are dead. In pencil. In pen. Something remains. Something intimate. A snail trail. A Continue reading →

My Gran’s Garden

When I went back twenty-five years later there were walls and barbed wire and gates where none had been before. Continue reading →

Let’s Talk About Benching

You look at a word long enough and it shows you some of the other things it can do. Like Continue reading →

The Opposite of Park

Waking up this morning on the tenth floor of a building in Holborn to sky and rooftops, the tip of Continue reading →

Somewhere You’ve Never Been

Go somewhere new every day. That’s what the Dali Lama says. Or is it every week, every month, once a Continue reading →

Other Parks: Independence Park

I met A there, and H, and L, and I met N and V and a guy called Jean-Luc. Most Continue reading →

Talk to the Map

A map says up to here and no further. A map says this is all I’ve got to say. A Continue reading →

Cake: A Guide to Relationships

Understand that you are alone. That in order to write you must be alone, no matter how dark and murky Continue reading →