Car Park Light


Patterns of light and lighting mechanisms; here they hold a glow poised to drip onto furiously intent shoppers.
Spiders and exhaust fumes begin a work of containment.

Published in: on September 14, 2013 at 8:36 am  Leave a Comment  

The Dawn Palace


A night full of calls, yelps; shouts and pleas from the street below. Cars and motorbikes flaring and roaring quickly away. In the morning, when Foible looked out, he saw the damage wrought: the Dawn Palace was destroyed; not by explosion but from a falling into itself. A year’s slump and decay in hours. As he looked, men entered the building and started to kick through the rubble.

Published in: on September 14, 2013 at 8:23 am  Leave a Comment  

He appeared on a screen in front of a silent audience. “Where am I?” he asked. “Here,” said someone. “There,” said another. Foible considered that he might well be in both places – the place of transmission and of reception – simultaneously. Or flickering between the two at a shutter speed that bled slightly out of the present.

Published in: on January 31, 2012 at 10:16 pm  Leave a Comment  

A light came at the end of the day. It was September again. The light said Summer is done and Winter is due. Yet neither had ended or started. Foible was now fully awake, in the space between seasons where he could think properly.

Published in: on September 6, 2011 at 7:29 pm  Leave a Comment  

Brick Tower

Foible received each brick passed to him and placed it on the previous one. The tower rose and he shrank. Sybelle came along and pulled out the bottom brick. The tower fell but they all queued up again with their bricks. This time Foible passed the bricks back, passed them on or ground them easily to dust for the wind to take.

Published in: on January 21, 2011 at 3:24 pm  Leave a Comment  


A slight thing collapsed inside of Foible; tiny struts bent; everything sagged.

Published in: on November 21, 2010 at 8:17 pm  Leave a Comment  


Behind and in front of him, the map re-coloured and skewed. Only beneath his feet did it hold itself correctly.

Published in: on November 7, 2010 at 8:22 pm  Leave a Comment  


In this part of the room something had snagged in its passage between worlds. Foible watched it squirm then reached down to unhook it; allow it on its way. The thing snarled a warning directly into his mind but Foible continued to reach down. When he touched the thing it writhed as if burned then lay still. From the TV came the sound of people talking up artefacts, words and words and words that could not penetrate the artefacts’ inherent uselessness. Foible turned away to the TV, then back, and the thing was gone.

Published in: on November 6, 2010 at 8:00 pm  Leave a Comment  


Caught fast the light: slung, pasted, snared, coiled, pooled. So, this is the view from all hotel windows, Foible thought. This is the collision of intent and execution. This is the speedy urban glacier carving its way down the valley. This is our mark here. He turned back to his room and lay on the bed. The TV was stuffed and bursting with formula shows. A woman was killed; others thought themselves around her death with devices and charisma. Eventually an arrogant or feeble man admitted too easily the crime. Foible slept and woke, as usual at 4:32 am. The light was different because the glacier had moved on.

Published in: on November 6, 2010 at 7:54 pm  Leave a Comment  


Foible and Sybelle stood a fist-width apart then swooned together, at last. They burrowed each other as leaves fell; locked themselves up through ice, snow, frost; cradled inside flurries of blossom then, while the sun peaked, took a step back and looked on the thing created right there.

Published in: on October 31, 2010 at 8:53 pm  Leave a Comment