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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Her head is the sky. Inside it, that is Beneath the hair and skin and bones is blue. It's not Gray polluted sky, air congested. And it's not Pale blue or sunset pink and orange. Inside her head is a vast, Persian blue. Deep and wide and extending in all dimensions. Watch her shut her eyes and...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Blank pages are for scribbling not masterpieces, and the inexhaustible space of Microsoft Word is only a match of the inexhaustible space of a writer's brain. And perfection is your Godot, time is not for waiting through, you must seize each idea and force not, only test until one da...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    laughing through stardust, and running through the universe’s skin, living in its flesh, not a parasite but a bandage - he grew weary and hiding death behind glee and brightness made his painted front crumble, erode as he ceased to be or even pretend to be the saviour, the wondrous or ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I'm a boat, a fish, a swimmer a mermaid, merlady stretching seaweed-draped arms barnacle-encrusted body writhing slowly, twisting beneath motorboats, tourist-loaded gondolas. I walk, hoisting my damp self up stone steps reclaiming my legs to wander bridges, alleyways, canalsides - me...
  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    Have you ever been hunted, searched for, like an animal? Have you ever been turned against, hated, by millions of people? I have. They came with burning torches, knives, and pitchforks. The perfect image of an angry mob. And, worst of all, it was after us. It was us who they were referring to, as...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Sometimes I forget that I am a sea-child, water-child, child of the ocean and waves and tides. I will become locked in those cities and streetscapes that I cannot help but adore. But the sight of waves and sand and that salty scent that sticks to my skin - it leaves me longing for the wa...
  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    Mr Dodgson’s rooms were magical, filled with games and music-boxes, songs and laughter. They were like a toystore, a magic land, a place of wonder … “It’s a Wonderland,” I told him once. “That, Alice, is a brilliant word,” he had replied. “Wonderland, wonderland. Ten letters. W: tw...
  • Nonfiction > Travel & Culture
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    Picture this: there’s a girl. A girl with such massive dreams. Her whole life, her whole being has been built on these dreams; this obsession. She’s in love. Crazy in love. In love with Europe and travelling, and it is the biggest dream she’s ever had. She decided at the age of eleven that she...

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