Lucy had wanted a dog ever since she couldn't pronounce it, though her father refused to countenance the idea. "What about one of your mother's cats?" he asked, but the colony of Gillian's Egyptian Maus were mostly feral and generally resistant to the concept of pink bows tied to their tails. Thankfully, the scratches bled profusely , thus washing the wounds. "I know," he said, drying her tears with a tissue, "you can have Profits." He vanished into the attic for ten minutes and emerged with a… Continue

Madame le Pardo offered tea-leaf fortunes from a little tent outside the cricket pavilion and for an undisclosed sum (it was illegal

to tell fortunes for money but you were encouraged to give a gift) she

would tell your future. Her method differed from the carnival lot, for

in addition to the customary wet leaves she would prick your thumb with

a needle and squeeze out three drops of rich, red life. He predictions

would then be frighteningly detailed. "You'll… Continue

I’ve heard of white horses on the edge of the tide but a sandy beach covered in white kittens was new to me. There must have been several hundred, all meowing piteously and lucking for homes. It was the latest ruse by the shapeshifting aliens of Praxis VI but they didn’t do their homework. Their plan was doomed to failure because they were too proud to log into google and monitor the population demographics. Not one was adopted from the Hartlepool with its history of hanging monkeys. They… Continue

In the window is a display of old almanacs dating from the mid-nineteenth century. Only in the last ten or fifteen years has the design changed significantly. The early ones are a riot of the engraver’s art, their covers promising the wonders within. The latest ones are nondescript – fragments of clipart arranged with 8-bit typefaces. Where is Arnold Bocklin when you need him most? Off with the Tarot readers.

She drives from Pontefract to give me the draft copy of my book back. It was destined to be the third book but the strength of the plot promotes it. Pages are highlighted with corrections but few of them involve heavy editing. My characters sigh, their hopes of extended stimulating dashed with the list of typos and misplaced commas and I am relieved to note the lack of grocer’s apostrophes – perhaps I am not such a bad grammarian after all. We chat about the plot over a cup of tea and decide to… Continue