Absence: A short story
The husband’s favourite section of the Tao Te Ching is about the space between things. A bowl is only useful because of the space within it, same with a doorway, or an open path. Sometimes he thinks that the space…
Category Creative Writing
New Novel Eloquent Graffiti Release
Hi all, My new novel Eloquent Graffiti is coming out this month, and is only a dollar in the first few weeks! Here’s the blurb: When Calloway arrives in Berlin, he’s hoping for a fresh start. A talented but guarded…
Sunset in Rome
Sunset in Rome in February. Warm enough to sit in a t-shirt on the stone steps facing L’Altare Della Patria. I strip off my jacket and I let it crumple to the stone steps below me. A couple walks by…
Her People’s Flag
The Café Fleury is covered in scaffolding by mid-summer, caused by the building works happening on the upper levels. White sheets are draped over the scaffolding, and it looked like a haunted house. There were three couples on the tables…
One day in Berlin
Saturday morning starts early in Berlin, where everyone is already out enjoying their breakfast. In Germany, they use breakfast as a verb. They breakfast their croissants, with waffles and cream. Next to us sit a table of three, breakfasting some…
The Train to Starnberg
I took the morning train down to Starnberg and immediately exited the station onto a stunning view of the lake, stretching as far as the eye could see, towards the distant mountains. Seagulls squawked in squadrons down by the shoreline,…
The Poet in Residence
It was lush inside, but simultaneously a mess, with papers lying everywhere, and old magazines, and posters on the wall of Elvis and Humphrey Bogart. The poet, by contrast, was pristine. Her hair was white-grey and cut short on her…
An Absurdist Reply to Ben Lerner: The Hatred of Poetry
He doesn’t like Ben Lerner. He doesn’t like most successful writers. He sits in his bathtub reading Ben Lerner’s Hatred of Poetry, because he hates Ben Lerner, and he hates poetry. He doesn’t just sit in his bathtub. He lies.…
Creative Writing: The Disappearance
It was Tuesday when Akira disappeared. I got home early to find the house ransacked. Her clothes had been meticulously removed from the cupboard, her shoes were gone from their resting place in the hall, and her toiletries were picked…
Creative Writing: The Dancing Professionals
Six hundred people in the space of fifty square meters. They’re crammed in tight around the edges and we only just get our own spot. Everyone is dancing, but it’s a slow dance even in the fast songs. I catch…