Drama

Guided tour doesn’t cover the pinball ride he takes us on, with Li forced into a trot to keep up, as her Dad – still gripping my arm – ricochets about this block of the school.

I’m the only person left on board. The windows gleam yellow with the flickering overheads. It’s still dark enough outside to keep my ghost reflection in the glass.

First chapter of the novel, "End of the Line", project-named "Bus Boy"

A poem about paying for sex

time loss and speeding up.

Another day, just another day

“F-ing SatNav!” Robin shouts as he finally found the Minehead address for which he has been seeking. Twenty minutes late and frustrated with the inconveniences of the modern world,

“How am I meant to get in a good sulk if you give in so easily?" Susan sighed. "No. I’ll be fine. I’ll find some comfortable piece of furniture to languish upon.

It was all just too cliché: the big house with squire’s son who looked like he just stepped down from a horse, cheeky staff, all at a dinner party.

“Do remember when you tried to order a hero when we were in Scotland?”

“Yeah. Robin laughed "The guy told me if, 'You want a hero, vote SNP. All we have are sandwiches'.”

poem - from a basement bar - money for nothing

The Mile

I don't belong here.

The path that Robin is following to the North Devon town of Bridgecombe is not well labelled. Although the town is only some five kilometres

writing exercise. stretchin those old brain cells

“Dear boy, I’m a writer. It takes us a very long time to say goodbye,” Susan laughed, “and that’s before the editors and publicist get a hold of it.”

In a futuristic version of America, women have been reduced to nothing more than breeders. This is the beginning of the Revolution.

The North Devon house is Jacobean--technically--except for the kitchens -- Victorian, and bedrooms -- Edwardian, and the main floor rooms -- post-Thatcher

mellow drama (or something).

A story about politics, family and what matters when the life you built shatters and political ideology ceases to be important.

And so begins our hero’s removal. Susan has kicked a Mingford’s hornets’ nest of gossip. The first signs can be seen just across the street.