Ghost Cats and Magpies

Will’s eyes followed the shadow while his fingers untwisted the last ribbon. He took off after it, swiftly but stealthily, slipping behind tree trunks and bushes, not once looking behind him to check if everything was as it should be. The shadow was moving away from the green, towards the other end of the village, […]

Coffee Morning with the Girls

I’ve been in Coffee Cup Cake for an hour, listening to them babbling on about their success as Internet influencers, the perils of public transport for mothers with buggies on their way to drop of their little darlings at the childminder’s, and date nights with their partners, “thank God for babysitters and grandparents!” Not one […]

Silent Sob

I have a poem in this month’s issue of Visual Verse and, as ever, I’m in great company, including Misky Braendeholm, Jane Dougherty and Kerfe Roig. This month, writers have been inspired by a powerful sepia-toned image by Gambian-British photographer Khadija Saye, whose work was exhibited in the Diaspora Pavilion at the Venice Biennale in […]

To Unravel a Maypole

From his hiding place behind the throne, Will watched until every villager had dropped off to sleep, including the May Queen and her attendants. Silence fell like a curtain on a theatrical performance. He wasn’t sure what to do: stay and keep watch over Willa’s sleeping neighbours or return to the cottage to help her. […]

The Wrong Daisies

Will’s mouth gaped. What had just happened? Willa used her wand to stir the drops of potion that remained in the cauldron. Everything was as it should be: she could see tiny pieces of daisy petals, willow bark, nettle leaf and yellow buttercup pollen. She ran to the door to look at the forest of […]

Daisies Everywhere

The villagers were not surprised when the stone goblin disappeared from beneath the willow tree, or when Will moved in with Willa. What might have bothered them was that he was less than half her size, although his face looked older. Willa was quick to point it out when she released him from the weather […]

Peaceful Protest

Today, I woke to daisies, their childish sunny faces embroidered in the buzz cut of yesterday’s mown grass. Escaping from the tendrils of untamed honeysuckle, an anarchy of roses, peaceful and perfumed, dew-washed and breeze- blown, outside a writer’s room. Nature bears no banners scrawled with hateful phrases, she demonstrates her power with branch, thorn […]