Australia

So, yesterday morning, a postman delivered a parcel to my front door. He kept knocking and knocking but you see I was in my dressing gown and felt a little silly. I opened the door after the 7th knocking and found him to be an Australian guy, a friendly friendly down-underer who made me smile. This is the second encounter with an Aussie in the past week which makes me more and more ready to jump on a plane and get myself over there...

Short Stories for September

Verses versus pictures. The two are fighting, or maybe bargaining. These are some more pages for my book that should be finished by next year...

The Bone Tree Birds

The tree trunks hold the bones where the birds sit and stare. The twigs are the veins, the birdsong the despair. The bear with no shackles bounds into the wild. The summer is ending the leaves have all died.