The Floor Scrapers

Henri worked in the middle. He was the workhorse: scraping relentlessly, back glistening with perspiration and never an upward glance (at least whilst the clients were there). He was the only one that knew what he was doing, as he had been trained in the trade. Pierre-Antoine toiled to the left (that is, the propriotor’s … More The Floor Scrapers


A strange meeting. Prayerful, with eyes lowered and bowed heads. This convocation of hands Graceful as  dancers; steadily Holding life and limb- A silent congregation, intent Upon salvation. Invoking healing, as if souls, not mouths, could converse. All in Accord, held by a moment bathed in light.  Yet moving mechanically, as the many parts of a … More Convocation

Where I write

After all the clamour, Dark, stifling days with grim faces, Jostling voices spouting emptiness- There is here. Tranquil light. Privacy. Safety. Calm Sighing of waves. Pure Colour. Time: to meet one’s self . Create. Share? Anybody could come through that door. Or nobody. Perhaps? This place. In my head heart soul. Where I write. © … More Where I write

Slowly, slowly

He had fallen in love with the nape of her neck. Her strong jaw. The dignity of her dress. He had never seen her face. Faithfully, he kept his back turned. Waiting.   Only when the two bufoons arrived was he besotted. Her voice: Smoky, lingering in her polite rebuffs. He felt her listening to their … More Slowly, slowly

Double Take

Her husband always sped up approaching the flower seller. A fierce impulsion drew him subtly forward. Every day on their wintry walks, with icy silence between them His gaze burned over the street, his arm stiff beneath her palm.   There she stood. Fleur. Auburn locks framing her scarlet bud of a mouth. Pinafore and … More Double Take

Rise and fall

He had climbed through the dark, Shrouded in  Gondolier garbs. Seeking an escape from the night’s heat. The burn of his desire. He was observed, but nobody asks questions at Carnivale, Especially when found in the wrong place, at the wrong time.   Now, at sunrise, somewhere beneath him she lay. Hours before, he had … More Rise and fall


Such a gaze as this never is or was or will be seen again. Your countenance twisted heavenward, drawing your intended to salty skin. All else withers in the glow of your supple litheness. Crimson coral falls from you, Brushing tide-plaited pearls. Who could resist that shocking, Sinuous entrapment so soft- yet unyielding. Utterly relaxed … More Intent

If it itches…

Records. They all itch-beneath their sleeves. All of them. All of the time. Always. Longing for relief. Yearning to be scratched on both sides. Those aren’t crackles that we hear. They are sighs. Gasps.  Sheer joy at being touched again. Once, in a spiral tease. Then returned. Sated. Shelved. Only to tickle until the next time. Dreaming … More If it itches…

Overt Surveillance

So I’m sitting at work in the office as you do. Opening the post, answering emails and I’m bored. The April sky outside is duck egg blue and I find myself wishing I was on holiday. So I indulge my guilty pleasure. Its on my desktop favourites as ICE. A live webcam from the office … More Overt Surveillance

Keep the Faith

I want  to time travel, right now. To drop in to an event, a gig, a scene  like a stone in a well, and immerse myself. Bathe in the moment, and only come up for air when sated.  Given the choice, the full gamut of happenings, I’d pick a Northern Soul event hands down. A … More Keep the Faith