The Observer's Commonplace
On The Edge of Knowing
I was at the edge of knowing everything about the Edge of Knowing — I was that close! But a precipice stood before me, or I before
Filed in the public record
Dreadfully Poor Publishing
Thoughts, stories, and ideas.
The Observer's Commonplace
On the Roastiness of Plump Unspeakable Birds
We had walked some way down Blind Lane, which is in Dorset, as anyone could plainly see, before it occurred to either of us that the
Provisional Verse & Reluctant Prose
An Indelible Thirst for Ink
O, what a drought is this that grips my hand! My quill, once nimble, lieth still and dry, The fountain of my fancy stopped at source,
Moth & Paper
Granny Smith
Beyond the bloomin' onions, past the cherry paste trees, lies Granny Smith's orchard. Best leave them apples be. Granny's from the