Space in the Office

Today was a strange day for me, tonight was stranger. I met a girl, a girl I thought I’d never see again. She was definitely there though, standing in the middle of the high street, spinning around in circles with an umbrella slid down the back of her yellow volunteer’s jacket.

Fishing for a readership

Intrigue them with your flash fiction

Seduce them with your short stories

Let them fall in love with your novel

The South Gut

I wrote The South Gut after a short holiday to Devon, one of the only times I had ever feared for my life. There isn’t any fiction here,

The South Gut

© Copyright Photograph by Roger Cornfoot and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence

We didn’t realise until it was too late that the water had surrounded us. Not once did it even occur to me that it was a possibility, but there we stood, in the middle of a sand bank off the Devon coast, our lives in danger.

The 25th Hour

© Photograph by Alan Dobson (credit)

Once there was a time I believed that a day consisted of a mere twenty-four hours, twelve in the morning, twelve in the afternoon. That was a long time ago.