Words And Pictures Of Words

When I was young I used to have close to perfect spelling.

Whenever I spoke I would see the word in my head as I said it, in nice clean large print, as if it was one of those cards we used to use at primary school to learn key words, or the highlighted text in a Ladybird book which for some reason contained every word I ever needed to say, no matter how obscure and arcane. If there was a word I couldn’t spell, I tried my best not to have to say it, warping sentences simply to cover my discomfort, disquiet, outright shame.

I don’t do this any more. When I speak my mind shows me nothing.

And I can’t spell a fucking thing.

__________

Notes:

1. Written on November 12th, 2024

Tales From The Town #199: Little Gate

The hedgerows had all died off long ago, and now the little gate at the end of the lane was a portal to nowhere. Every morning on their way to school, Daniel went through it, Ethel went over it, Tina went round it, and Claire insulted its stupid existence, every time, without fail.

But the little gate went on existing, regardless. It would, in time, outlive us all. Outlive the lane, outlive the town, outlive time itself.

__________

Notes:

1. Written on October 16th, 2024

(untitled)

i don’t really care what any of you think
(i want you all
to love me)

___________

Notes:

1. Written on November 16th, 2024

Tales From The Town #198: The Motorbikeists

They streamed into town, one sunday afternoon, and occupied the car park as if it was their own. Then they all streamed out of town, that same sunday afternoon, an hour before dusk.

It was like a dream, or a fever. There was no way to tell if they’d ever even been there. By the next morning even the discarded chip wrappers were gone.

__________

Notes:

1. Written on October 16th, 2024