The Clock in My Mother’s House Runs Backwards
‘I can’t believe you kept it.’ It’s an ugly thing – a Year 8 woodwork project. Unevenly circular, almost egg-shaped where I over-planed to make tiny unnecessary adjustments, erroneous hour-increment markings where my chisel deviated around the grain. For some reason I painted a black ca
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A Cornish Rebellion
Loveday stretched and turned over in bed. Treve snored gently beside her, not even stirring. Through the window, the moon was in its final quarter and clouds were drifting across it, thick enough to cast a shadow, but not enough that the light was completely extinguished. She got up quietly and p
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