I’m Reviewing a Play at the Albany and I was wondering if you’d like to come along

  Charles Thornton was a stenographer. A stenographer is someone who takes notes in shorthand or operates a shorthand machine. I didn’t know that until I happened upon in it in a dictionary, but Charles had known it all his adult life. When he was 11 he received a vision informing him, among other things, … Continue reading I’m Reviewing a Play at the Albany and I was wondering if you’d like to come along

Don’t thank me, thank the moon’s gravitational pull

Christine was managing the office relocation, an opportunity to take her mind off the break-up with Malcolm. Malcolm, however, was health and safety, and everything had to be approved by him. She indicated with a polished fingernail the position of the new building but Malcolm moaned, shook his head and did nervy jazz hands. ‘You’ve … Continue reading Don’t thank me, thank the moon’s gravitational pull

Chickens

               ‘What number did you say your house was?’ I said.              ‘115,’ said the boy.              We pulled over and I mounted the curb, reversed off it, straightened up, mounted the curb again, reversed off it again, wiped the sweat from my forehead and straightened up, leaving the car over a foot away from … Continue reading Chickens