I liked to ride the Docklands railway in those days, sitting at the very front of the electric trains, when they were being driven by an operator at the back. As we zipped around the waterfront of the Thames, following rails set on an overpass of raised concrete, I thought of myself as living in … Continue reading I Liked To Take The Trains
Tag: writing
Weather
Now that I have moved to the tower, I'm positioned closer to the weather, pushed up against the atmosphere and affected by its changes. Even though I live in the city, and look over the skyline from my vantage point, I feel remote and outcast, as though I've renounced my urban life for some sort … Continue reading Weather
Tentacular 6
My poem 'After The Beach' is now live on Tentacular Magazine. Black rock parts the sand,sleek as porpoise finspoised for the depths or launched from prehistory.We buried ourselves here,accumulated like time or metal work, the sandshuffled out of geography.The ship on the horizon pulls us into its nets.Neither of us drew the map:here be dragons, … Continue reading Tentacular 6
The Novelist
At this time of year, as summer builds and I head to the coast, I remember my old ambition to be a novelist. This usually comes with a sense of embarrassment and regret. I've written a few novels, and they've been mostly unsuccessful, although I'm lenient enough on myself to think of this as a … Continue reading The Novelist
Clean
I think of those days often, when I seemed to spend my life on trains. In some ways, I've never left that journey, and the landmarks along the way have assumed the importance of personal ciphers. The dead tree at the centre of a marsh, pale as bone. The clearing at the edge of a … Continue reading Clean
Automated Houses
I visited an old acquaintance, a performance poet who had left the city some years before, and moved to the wilds of the north. Our friendship had always been tentative and slightly awkward, in that I had little respect for his work, and he, I knew, felt the same about mine. Still, after many years … Continue reading Automated Houses
Canvases
At one time or another, the cottage appeared to have been the residence for a landscape painter: Mitchell uncovered scraps of oil-soaked material, brushes, and dried-out paints, and on a set of shelves at the back of the room, he found a pile of canvases. One of the pictures showed a coastal scene, a wide … Continue reading Canvases
Snakes
We headed to the outskirts of the city to buy snakes, travelling by train to a dirt track beside a busy road. We saw them uncoiling by a long ditch that ran along the dark fields: long black snakes, muscular and flexuous, some of them two or three metres in length. Headlights picked up the … Continue reading Snakes
My War
I sat out my war in a series of back end stations, always behind the frontline, couched down away from missiles and drones. The days were long and filled with abortive chess moves, and the radios rarely worked. We raided local supplies for wine and cheeses, although these were poor products, lacking in bucolic artistry, … Continue reading My War
Interzone 285
My story 'Frankie' features in issue 285 of Interzone, out this week. 'Coming over with the night train and what else is there to say? Moonlight and gin is the recipe. None of us have the time. Starlings and eagles happen. Dream is the key. The line of traffic in the rural road, the faded … Continue reading Interzone 285
