Rewenge
The Cloud Speaks On the Subject of Revenge Revenge is a relentless drama, greedy by nature. Watch it at work, …
Tag Archives: Prose
‘Ow Much?!
Time Was (Circa the Span of a Century) Posh coffee for a fiver? Time was you could score a bag …
Like a Frisbee, into the Lampblack Night
Ontogenesis I am cold, he said. Then wear me as a cape, she replied. And so he did, donning her, …
The Toll
The Cloud Speaks on the Subject of ‘The Toll’ The terrible life events we must all endure at one time …
Simulcast Fragment – 4201596/E.C. – Scar fall
Scarfall For the eavesdroppers I forget. The strata of a small life missing some of its fossils. No big shakes. …
To Trachea Illuminati
Rather than go dark, my muse decided (never asks Esme mind, just strikes when I’m not looking. Cheeky sod) to …
Thoughts upon a Cloud Dweller and her Wares
Said thoughts being yours for ‘The Book’ — the true title is top (upper shelf, hidden behind emergency tins of …
The Scullery Maid
Superb poetry from Mike Steeden here; my reblogs always beggar up so I’m pasting it along with the linkage to …
The Name Game
Names are powerful, they create a subliminal image to the characters in books, poetry and lyrics, one added to the …
The Waiting Room
The Waiting Room Esmeralda Cloud: From my vantage point upon the Cloud, a scene presents itself; another cipher from the …
Simulcast Fragment – 1825210005 – Lucian E. Fabble – The Ghost of Your Writer
The following letter and subsequent verses were found by rail guard Lucian E. Fabble on the first day of November …
The Ill-advised Musings of a Svengali Surgeon
He said . . . I will make you my Helen of Troy, dearest one, Disguise the crow’s …
Common has Muck and Decency in tow . . .
Word Up It’s packed in here. I can’t actually see Packed because, true to his name, he’s in the …
The Cloud Speaks On the Subject of Marbles.
Detach some temperate layer of your egoical self, some gentle, unspectacular aspect of your existence which slips along quietly with, …
An Ancient Panic Etched
Pigeonholed. Pigeonholed, He can hardly move. One of his greatest fears materialised . . . The transpired terror. A foot …
