Mick Hanson
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Darkest Yorkshire Chapter Two
The Moors looked despondent and menacing, banks of darkness encompassing the town like a malevolent archangel.
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- 949 reads
Dawn
The whistles are terrible at dawn. They summon the start of yet another day of slaughter. Often I lay among the broken sandbags in the bottom of the trench just simply aching with fatigue.
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- 908 reads
The Weight of the City
He knew the river as one does finally a friend; knew it when it was black, guarding at night time all the lights of London in its depths, and seeming in its vast silence...
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- 932 reads
Dancing with a Tiger
It was a Sunday morning, wet and cheerless. Along the street the merriment of the church bell of ‘The Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary’ ding donged its way to 5am.
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- 1233 reads
The Black Caiman
Sure enough when he went to the oven, there on a low light was his favourite, tripe and onions.
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- 1654 reads