One of my poems was included in this 2016 potrey anthology. Called, Our Picasso Dish it was an honour to be part of the collection.
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It is July 17, 1918, and the smell of cordite snaps at the air with relish. The cooling bodies of the family Romanov...
Fiction writing (unpublished)
http://creativewritingcambridge.blogspot.co.uk/
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"I AM GOING" SAID MR. HAWKS, INSPECTOR OF POLICE. HE IS GOING OUT OF GHIS POLICE STATION AFTER FINISHING HIS WORKS AT 7:00 PM. CHENNAI, A...
Rising over the sand dunes like the head of a giant, the sun cast its beaming light over the little encampment. The...
Anthony the ball is lying in a pile of balls in a big toy store, but he is not feeling...
The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page. Saint Augustine
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Gangster films are the inheritor of the Greek tragedy: it's the only genre where the audience will be...
It was the late summer of 2016, Pine Avenue, St Knives Maine. It was a very windy street, the leaves...
"Gary you are one Saaaad son of a bitch, you know that? Gary Derbyn...
Are we awake Master Grodin? Ah yes sir, I was – Head in the clouds as always? Is History that...
I gaze at it, my delicate rose,Sitting there, in a lonely pose,Shielded by crystal, soft petals,glowing in the darkness,Leaves, coloured...