Blog Archives

For Want of an Acerbic Metaphor

This morning’s breakfast was buttered toast, coffee with milk and three sugars and sour grapes. The coffee and toast came from my kitchen. The sour grapes came from skimming the arts pages of the Telegraph on my tablet. They splashed

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

Your Mood in the Sea

When I want to know whether it’s one of your happy days or one of your sad days, I stand at the window and watch the sea. It’s safer than watching you. With my back to our home, the sea

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

Green in my Desert

I lay where I fell on the desert sands until the figure shimmered out of the ochre dust. Its hazy outline resolved into limbs, a torso and a head that were the green of seedlings given life by rain. “What’s

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

Voice on the London Underground

You walk home from the station? Twenty five minutes? That’s…wow. Well, I used to do that sort of thing. Of course. Didn’t used to be so, well, like this. Used to go to the gym every day. Well, maybe a

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

The Bailiffs’ Bet

ete gave the cottage a once over while Gerry parked the car. It looked like the last man to paint it had been paid in shillings and the front garden was halfway to being a jungle, but at least the

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

Mueller Blues with Rosé

Ethan sat next to Caitlyn on the sofa and filled her glass with her favourite rosé. “Tell all.” “His profile pic looked kinda hot.” Caitlyn touched her glass to Ethan’s. “But…” “Sounds like he ticked the most important box, but

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

Memorial in Mud

The only time I ever heard him raise his voice was when I tried to clean his boots. It was a few days after he’d come home, still wearing his fatigues. The only clean things he owned were the bandages

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

Chance of a Ship

Every day I wonder how my life would have been if I’d got on the ship. I’d still be old now, but maybe I’d have had a chance to be young. I’d have exchanged this solid, predictable ground that’s been

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

Icarus of Marylebone Road

You want to know about Nigel? Well, I’ll tell you what I can. I sat next to him in the office, but I guess you’re asking me because you already know that. It didn’t make me his best mate. It

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle

Olympian

They’d told Damian he should rest. Fat chance. It was when he caught himself trying to remember the last time he’d rested for a full day that he knew he couldn’t sit in his dad’s armchair for a moment longer.

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Posted in Saturday Hooptedoodle
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