Category: Writing

I go back in time, to an evening last December. I follow my friend S. into a pub. It’s a cold night and I’m happy to step inside. S. is the only friend I have left in the Inner Garden. We don’t see each other very often, but do plan nice things together. Every now… Continue reading Associating (Part 2) →

Saturday morning, while walking the dog, I found this little dead bird on the pavement. I couldn’t help but stop and pick it up to take a closer look. It looked like it had only just crawled out of the egg to fall out of the nest. But it was beautiful, unblemished and everything was… Continue reading Associating (Part 1) →