Edith

A familiar in disguise? A twin? Zygote-mate unseparated at conception? I prefer to think Edith is anima, the feminine aspect of the soul, or perhaps better yet guardian angel—a figure that recurs in all my writing. [Read more]

Three Tales

I’ve reached an age when anything accomplished invites the pleasingly macabre thought that it might be the last, and it is with something of this feeling I publish my new book. [Read more]

A poem

Once in a summer at haying time, /
My uncle Dave and the neighbour— /
A coarse fellow in bib overalls /
Who shat in the barnyard among his beeves /
Whenever the urge took him— /
Gave me a pitchfork and said to come along. [Read more]

Plot

Nothing is spared and nothing is explained. No motive, no reason. Eventually we will get there but not now, and anyway these are not really very important. What is important is that we are pitched headlong into the story. Propelled by pity and terror. [Read more]

Cargo cult

There was no time when one might not freely solicit custom, while the sounds of the healing business somewhere in the brightly lit centre wafted out inconsequentially. “Heal!” would come. A hush. Groans and cries. Applause. A refrain struck up. More quiet. “Heal!” [Read more]