Vixie's stories

I wrote this sitting in a pub with a neverending fuel of coffee. Just about to post it and a couple come and sit in front of me and start sn...

  Freedom   Black cats creep on neon signs, walk sublime, echo you in mime, come to find you lurking, somewhat stilted. Tap the shine. You d...

  Two little pieces I wrote. The first one I wrote in Waterloo around 11pm. Was crossing the road towards the station and a guy was playing ...

    Sliding doors   You find vision switch in echo, flick red betwixt the sure and the maybe.   If someone says you can come inside you wond...

  Sunborn   We are morning as it is, a peace offering, how it wakes, breathes, uneasy storm, the sunborn scent of the ever ocean shifting, s...

  Wisps   High on the level, fire on the pedal, metal cleaves in ever-descending miles. Set a record in the waking night to an audience of b...

  Camouflage   He slides into the cracks in walls, seeps into spaces etched in concrete, the places between oceans swept, air blown outside ...

  Some poems I wrote in pubs from Monday to Wednesday. It rained quite a bit! They are all first drafts.     Wet T-shirts   Swap T-shirts in...

  Silver   The Man in the Moon moved. One day he simply stepped down, left his silver boa behind, took the world’s spotlight down. A torch b...

  The real thing (a prose poem)   You buy it hoping it will fit, but you can never really know. Taste a sample. Is it the real thing or is i...

Pulling the chain   Spend four months kipping in hotels because you don’t have a choice – no job = no flat – and they’ll soon lose their idy...

  Chasing water   You can smell the rain melt into the trees, spray the sidewalk a-glitter, invisible chaser, staring up at sunlight crackin...