Cherrypicked stories

Hell has no borders

language is imperfect art is a conduit for emotion and almost all art is limited by medium even film constrained by its screen a tiny window to peep...

It was better in the fort. Tucked between the couch and the wall. Made of three blankets, two couch cushions, and a big cardboard box from Mom’s new...

Dyado Petr, Baba Stefka and Todor Zhivkov are/were real people, the earthquake and appointment of a new head of state really did happen, and the places I’ve mentioned really do exist, but much of the rest of this tale is a fig leaf of my imagination. However, it describes an event that could have taken place in my part of Bulgaria seventy years ago. Superstition is so strong and diverse here that it’s possible to make it up and get away with it. Maybe I did make it up and maybe I didn’t.

If I knew grace amid embrace of time, that declares how encapsulating and alluring this lyre of blessed energy; then lull of many women surely...

Catherine Booth was in her kitchen, cooking Halloumi burgers and salad, with fruit and Greek yoghurt to follow, and sipping wine. She checked her...

Final part of chapter two.

This is the remainder of Chapter 1, the start of which I posted about a month ago.

Carruthers continued up Weidlake Drive toward the Reservoir.