Tag Archive: Literature/Poetry


Image by Neal Domenico

Behind the promenade is the facade of the wounds that haunt you. A cut is forever. A broken bone signifies a difference of opinion. On a slight incline, veering off the esplanade, is an all night chemist. One could be in Golders Green but for the absence of tigers. Everybody dances. And no one hurts. It’s the sea air, makes you sleepy. Those wandering voices like child-scent. But you don’t blink for the cold on your skin, and the rag around your heart is a friendly pain.

Sudden fiction

Since I started this blogging thing I haven’t been reading as much as is good for me. I mean proper reading, you know, like books? So the other morning I revisited my shelves and picked up a small volume of stories called Revenge of The Lawn by Richard Brautigan. Inside I found what must be close to the shortest short story ever written. Here it is.

The Scarlatti Tilt by Richard Brautigan

“It’s very hard to live in a studio apartment in San Jose with a man who’s learning to play the violin.” That’s what she told the police when she handed them the empty revolver.

Isn’t that beautiful?

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