Image by Christine Renney The old adage is that you don’t ever really know a person until you have lived with them. She hadn’t lived with anyone else but him, not since leaving home. Not since absconding from her parents and moving in to the first of those bedsits. The first and the crummiest, theContinue reading “THE PORTAL”


I am about to settle in yet another doorway, to turn and sit and watch the passers-by. But I hesitate. Others have lingered here. There are empty beer cans at my feet and fast-food wrappers and there is writing on the doors. Somebody has set to work with a black marker, covering them from topContinue reading “GHOST LETTER 15”