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By Martin Carter
Those of you who have read the first part of my profile will have learned that I have recently retired. One drawback of that is that I no longer enjoy the use of a company car. So I have been thinking of getting a car of my own, but then had a thought. Itâ€™s usually only my wife and I...
Eve awoke to a room full of sunlight. A fresh morning breeze lifted the muslin curtain then dropped it playfully as it rippled through the material. She had slept well and yet she felt as if she could lie there all day. The past few days had been emotionally draining and trying to replace the...
Lily is running, running from an abusive home, from her past, she feels like no one loves her, wants her or needs her. but that ill all change on one night and with one ride with a stranger...
The announcer is saying that the last survivors of the Viking invasion of NE England have barricaded themselves in fortress York and are surrounded by tens of thousands of baying, feral lager louts. Police causalities have reached four figures and a complete breakdown of law and order has...
a small poem about a hopeless caravan.
Poetry | Updated Aug 18, 2008 | Reads: 6 | Comments: 1 | Likes: 1