Wringing my hands. Ringing? Wringing out. Mary always says I’ve got sweet hands, delicate petals. The woman in me finds that both insulting and flattering. The dainty hands of a poet, which tracks. “Look under the couch,” Mary says from the hallway. She’s painting that wall, from wall to corner to wall to ceiling. I’veContinue reading “Flash”

“I’ve just had the strangest night”

Bảo wasn’t from Glesga, so something about it appealed to him. The way folk kept putting it up there. The way no cunt ever saw it going up. The way it implied that the locals had a certain acrobatic ability. I suppose it encapsulated the place for him. So, on our breaks he was alwaysContinue reading ““I’ve just had the strangest night””

Bertram de Shotts

(1393) “So, tell me what you know of Bertram de Shotts,” Willielmo said into the flickering semi-darkness. “Hodon,” Baird said. The miller had only introduced himself moments before. He was short and gruff, but there was a certain sharpness to his eyes, glinting out between a pair of heavy sideburns. His home was scented ofContinue reading “Bertram de Shotts”

Columba (from ‘The Train has Struck a Cow, Ladies and Gentlemen’)

The black fish screamed at me with its little puckering mouth. Flat, glistening. A dark spiral at the center of a white eye. Froth rising from folds in its painted gills. Every morning I woke up in my little single bed and rolled over. I was lucky, most hostels jam all the staff in the one damp, overcrowded dorm, but in Inverness I had a whole room to myself. It was a small space, very minimal. White walls, a window looking out on the alleyway, a pop out desk, and a single bed. I sat up, shivering slightly, and looked more closely at the fish…