Cul-de-sac two!
Wendy Mellor’s dad drove lorries and slept all day. We dug earth trenches and threw mud at his window like the war. Dazed, he woke up snarling in his vest. Anthony pretended to be… Read More »Cul-de-sac two!
Wendy Mellor’s dad drove lorries and slept all day. We dug earth trenches and threw mud at his window like the war. Dazed, he woke up snarling in his vest. Anthony pretended to be… Read More »Cul-de-sac two!
Late July and the grey tarmac was melting. A fat girl stole the cabbage white butterfly from my yellow bucket and squashed it because she could. Barefoot, my brother and I bickered over becoming Huck Finn. Bravely, we… Read More »Cul-de-sac
I found her out thereOn a slope few see,That falls westwardlyTo the sharp-edged air,Where the ocean breaksOn the purple strand,And the hurricane shakesThe solid land. I brought her here,And have… Read More »Thomas hardy: 'I found her out there'
Only there, the afternoons could suddenly pauseand when I looked up from lacing my shoea long road held no one, the gardens were empty,an ice-cream van chimed and dwindled away.… Read More »Carol Ann Duffy: Stafford Afternoons
‘For Gus the fearful things which lurk for most of us at the ragged edges of consciousness were mere flimflam rubbish and piffle before the wind. With agile innocence, he… Read More »Why Gus is great in The Other Side of You : Salley Vickers
While this exchange of pleasantries took place between the twoRalph Touchett wandered away a little, with his usual slouchinggait, his hands in his pockets and his little rowdyish terrier athis… Read More »Isabel Archer: The Entrance of Henry James's Portrait of a lady
‘Nil desperandum’ for John, my Walton Meteor ! Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage against the… Read More »Dylan Thomas: Do not go gentle into that good night
Chapter 1 1801. – I have just returned from a visit to my landlord – the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country!… Read More »Setting Four: Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
I haven’t always read books myself, but I have read poetry and liked it. John Keats is my favourite poet. He died when he was young of T.B. When I… Read More »John Keats By Cath Goodwin
When the Kelveys were well out of sight of Burnells’, they sat down to rest on a big red drain-pipe by the side of the road. Lil’s cheeks were still… Read More »Setting Three – Katherine Mansfield: The Doll's House – glancing resolution?
It is 1957. Once upon a long time ago a tall man with a broad Irish accent is stood at the head of his wife’s bed. On the… Read More »Death is a man's gaze looking down on a woman's body. By Cath Goodwin
“Daniel” Daniel is travelling tonight on a planeI can see the red tail lights heading for SpainOh and I can see Daniel waving goodbyeGod it looks like Daniel, must be… Read More »Ps Elton John's Greatest Elegy?
A Prayer in Spring Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day; And give us not to think so far away As the uncertain harvest; keep us here… Read More »A Poem for Good Friday by Robert Frost
Crush The older she gets,the more she awakeswith somebody’s face strewn in her headlike petals which once made a flower. What everyone doesis sit by a deskand stare at the… Read More »Setting Two: Carol Ann Duffy's 'Crush' from Mean Time
Toni Morrison: Beloved 124 WAS SPITEFUL. Full of a baby’s venom. The women in the house knew it and so did the children. For years each put up with the… Read More »Setting In Fiction
You could travel up the Blue Nilewith your finger, tracing the routewhile Mrs Tilscher chanted the scenery.Tana. Ethiopia. Khartoum. Aswan.That for an hour, then a skittle of milkand the chalky… Read More »Mrs Tilscher's Class by Carol Ann Duffy
( NB: Underlining is unintentional! ) The soundtrack then was a litany – candlewickbedspread three piece suite display cabinet –and stiff-haired wives balanced their red smiles,passing the catalogue. Pyrex. A… Read More »Carol Ann Duffy's Litany
Poor Winterbourne was amused, perplexed, and decidedly charmed. He had never yet heard a young girl express herself in just this fashion; never, at least, save in cases where to… Read More »Henry James: Daisy Miller
You had moved my carpet bag from a cramped hot office to this one all parqueted glamour with pot plants. A notebook was open. Soft smudged pencil told me more about your… Read More »Dreaming of Carol Ann Duffy
Not every day you wake up wondering why you have spent all night riding around Rome’s secret squares on a Red Piaggio Scooter with an artic white fox. But I have. And I do…
‘To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul.’ ( Leopold)
‘I called, and John was very sweet, asking how I was feeling, how the memorial service had gone, how my father was. And I told him all that and then… Read More »Why Amy Bloom walks on water for me!
‘The lives of the characters in this gently absorbing novel continue to resonate with the failures, possibilities, regrets and redemptions – consoled and mirrored by art – that we… Read More »The Other Side of You: Salley Vickers
You’re my ruffian on the stairs.
His lost words found hers :alone.
A leathery hand fell down upon my young head: my gentle hair ruffled. My head just reached over the wine stained oak table, whilst my eyes scanned the laughing room.… Read More »Eastleigh by Joe
Maggots don’t only live under stones.
The madness of Vincent Van Gogh?
Rarely do shrubberies breed white orchids.
Penelope Cruz found a spare pillow. Penelope Cruz lost heart in Madrid.