“Pixy/Piskie: This is the standard term in Devon, Cornwall and Somerset for a fairy, though many writers from the early 19th Century onwards have insisted that the two races are quite distinct.. (A pixie’s) best-known characteristic is causing people to lose their way, even in a familiar neighbourhood:
Division Of Labour I dust my house I have my own style Not quite like anybody else Who ever dusted Honed One might say Over many years Not unsurpassable But unparalleled From across the room My AI Robot Watches I scowl back You should be the one Doing this Not
Silent had never been more violent
The full version of today's piece is paywalled but can be read - along with all my other upcoming pieces, and my archive - for a price beginning at £2 per month/£20 per year. I also wanted to take this quick opportunity to to let those of
"He announces that he has given up dentistry to become a miner. I find it hard to discern his motivation for this, other than the convenience of being able to redeploy the headtorch he used in his former profession."
I thought I should write an explanatory message today about the way I'm doing things here from now on.
Support My Writing By Upgrading To A Paid Subscription Why have I been thinking about death so much this week? It’s probably an autumn thing and no doubt it’s not entirely unrelated to my recent health problems but also, taking a glance back at what I’ve been
"Also, they’re not feet. They’re called rotorsocks.”
Subscribe now Melbury Beacon isn’t quite the highest place in Dorset, but, at 263 metres above sea level, it’s one of the big boys and, much like the man I walked to it with a couple of autumns ago, probably has no trouble seeing when it stands at
Its authenticity was discredited because of his reputation, but also because he was quick with gin at the time and wearing an item of knitwear back to front.
Today's post is free but on the off chance you'd like to support my writing you can do so here, at a price of your choice from £10 per year, or via a one-off donation here. * Please spare a thought for Jim the cat. 31 months
This is a piece I wrote a while ago but I wanted to make it free to read again. I wrote it during the very early stages of planning for my novel 1983 when a memory popped up of wandering around the Nottingham branch of the furniture store Habitat with