Angusfolklore
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Bonnie Prince Charlie in London, 1750
Years after Culloden, in the despondent London fog, the fat, failed, drunken Stuart indulged his ancestral homeland with an unbidden visit. The Young...
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- 398 reads
Kernow Song
This is the land of another language beneath its paper thin English skin. Green sward on the headland's heath, a statement thrust into the Celtic Sea...
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- 571 reads
St Rumon's Space (Redruth)
It looks like a bombed out place, this quiet vacancy in an unfashionable town. To one side, over the walls, traffic drones, and on the other a...
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- 689 reads
The Man Who Hated Wasting Paper
I would give him wings made from the crisp red gold of fallen leaves, fold the bark of silver birch into darts that would pierce his stingy heart. I...
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- 708 reads
Three Women at the Estuary
The first one flew away before we had time to say barely hello. The geese honked derision at the fumbled fond words I hoped to snare her with . The...
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- 1281 reads