He raised the telescope to the battlements over the gate. The sun glanced off the helmets of the militiamen. And then he spotted a tall black hat. It was easy to guess the sinister presence under it, waiting like a bird of prey. The motivation Yonnis had felt on seeing the end of the journey … Read more
Esta looked hopefully at her “foster mother”. “Guardian” would be a much better word. Or, perhaps, just “guard”. Lady Deneesa’s face was red and puffy, her eyes were still full of tears, and of course she just wanted to spend time with her children in the temple, mourning her husband. But she was an important … Read more
Yonnis’s skin prickled. He peered into the grime, not knowing which way to turn his horse. His eyes and nostrils were stinging. He tried to salivate to reduce the pungent taste of gunpowder smoke. Rhythmic musket fire and the cries of men were fading, and, most chilling of all, he could not hear the drums. … Read more
My favorite narrative poem, since the age of about nine, is the Highwayman by Alfred Noyes, first published in 1906. How’s this for a powerful opening? “The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees. The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas. The road was a ribbon of moonlight over … Read more
“Brothers and sisters! Welcome to Clayhills Place, as this fine house is now called.” The guests cheered Deneesa. She felt exhilarated. Was it the extended physical intimacy of earlier, or was it the prospect of a new power base, a national one rather than just a regional one? “Brothers and sisters, what a joy it … Read more
I used to feel energized by that command from the front of the sports hall! I still do weights classes, but after hearing loss, I have to imagine it. I am aware of the voice and just follow the demonstration. I’m always a beat behind everyone else, but at least I am still trying to … Read more
I’m fired up to write about lace! I was going to write a History Elf item today about an unknown commoner who became de facto leader of Flanders centuries before the phenomenon of Oliver Cromwell in England, but Artevelde has been pipped today by lace. Marlow Museum put on a concert last night with some … Read more
The minor irritations of life are a wet blanket for creativity. It was a relief yesterday to be staying with friends, with time to explore the lunacies of 21st century living. To take but one, the irony of communications companies being among the poorest of communicators should provide endless material for comedians. “Please hold, your … Read more
