Unlit Sticks: Flash Fiction
The tractor scores bright lines in the field. Four bales of silage already loom, great barrel-shadows with a sheen of their own.
Writing Round-up and a Word about Minions
A Writing Round-up seems timely at a stage where I’m halfway through the year, have been working very hard and have a few successes to report! So, here goes:
The Lismore Immrama Experience
I got my first taste of the Lismore Immrama Festival of Travel Writing at the weekend. Despite the name, the festival is not just about travel and offers a wide variety of events, with something to interest everyone. As I’ve recently been reading ‘The Famine in Waterford’, I decided to attend a lecture by Donald…
Old and Free: Flash Fiction
Her song finds the spiders each morning, moves along the webs until they quaver. It doesn’t occur to her to dust or hoover the creatures away. They are hers. She admires their composition. Legs, a bare tremble. Heads, like black tears.