A Visit to Glasgow Necropolis

The Glasgow Necropolis on a cold, bright morn; grand and Gothic and unsurprisingly, Victorian. Ever a society in love with death, elevating it into an art form fit for the ancients. It's easy to see why writers are fascinated by cities of the dead. Cemeteries tell a thousand tales. Inspiration and intrigue around every corner.... Continue Reading →

Today

Today I felt a moment of sadness flicked in from nothing a moment given for the mourning of those who have no other I wondered whose loss I had been assigned who they had been before the trap closed whether they were always anonymous born and died with the light touch flying with dragging feet... Continue Reading →

Who told you I was leaving?

You know I wouldn't go anywhere without saying goodbye. And I'm not. I'm here aren't I? There's no need to cry. I know you got scared, I'm sorry but leaving you is the last thing on my mind. I know I've been distant lately, work is just crazy. They've got me running all over the... Continue Reading →

Aged Thirteen and Late in Bed

(Written at 13, re-written at 20 and found in the archives at 30-and-a-bit) Aged thirteen and late in bed, I realised that one day I’d be dead. My stomach gave a sudden jolt, and in me found a strange revolt, against the idea of ever ending, and I wondered about bending, time around me so... Continue Reading →

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