I was reminded of this distant memory when songwriter and poet Chris Broderick passed away, recently. I think it was in 1987 when I called into the Royal Oak on a Tuesday evening, in the company of Chris and our fellow poet Simon Robson, after a meeting of the Medway Community Writers group. It was … Continue reading
Putting left politics “on trial”
I remember Tony Cliff joking, years ago, that there is an approved list of only a dozen or so words that socialist groups are allowed to select from when deciding on a name. The word mutiny must be on that list, because it keeps cropping up. There was a group around a small literary magazine … Continue reading
Crows in the morning
There was once a very rich merchant who wanted to make a pleasure garden for himself. He had land, but he had a vision of gardens that would stretch as far as the horizon and beyond, further even than he could walk in three whole days and nights. He bought more and more land, evicting … Continue reading
“I was a fox”
You’ll think this a strange tale at least, and quite likely you’ll think me a liar, but for several years in my youth I was a fox. I was born from a human mother and a human father, just like you. My childhood was quite normal too, if not always entirely happy. My father drank … Continue reading
When farmer chased the sun
There was once a farmer who had managed to grow rich and fat. This doesn’t happen for every farmer, we all know that. This one, however, was the greedy type who manages to gobble up his neighbours’ land if they fall on hard times – and does his very best to make sure that they … Continue reading
The deer girl
There was once a young unmarried woman who went walking alone in the forest. She was gone for three days and three nights, and though her mother and father and her three brothers all went searching for her, they could find no sign of her until she came home. “Where have you been? What happened … Continue reading
Two housewives and a loaf of bread
This is the second of the “Calderian folktales”. I have twelve written now, with more on the way. As they don’t seem to fit anywhere else I think I might post them here on the blog, one each Friday, over the coming weeks and months. ************************************************** Things were a lot harder, in the old days, … Continue reading
The farmer and the sunflowers
Introduction I wouldn’t usually add an introduction to a story I’ve written myself, but in this instance it feels necessary to say something about the story’s origins. A week ago, while languishing with covid, I experienced a vivid dream. This is not unusual for me, but in this case it was a particularly long and … Continue reading
Where dreams may fail
His eyes flickered, then opened. Demons were tangled like briars in front of him, the thorns of their teeth and talons catching at his flesh. His heart lurched and he tried to turn, to run; yet he could not move. He tried to wrench his legs forward, but they resisted him. The scene swam and … Continue reading
What the gannet knows*
Scattered along the bookshelves in my study, along with the books, I keep a number of small objects. My parents and grandparents might have called them “knick-knacks”, a term that implies a general uselessness, trivial things of no real value. But to me these are small objects of desire, redolent with meaning, if only a … Continue reading