The Guitar Lesson

Soon however, it was my turn to play tutor. My turn to count the fours. I tuned her guitar as she chattered about the joys of tango and I wondered how I was going to proceed. She already had some chords memorised but how was I going to deal with the unfamiliar shapes, the ones…

The First Minute Of Olympia

What does it mean to love someone who refuses to be loved? I stare into the mirror now and ask myself that question with eyebrows raised, forehead creased like screwed up paper. A story written and re-written. In blood mostly. Yet not so long ago I dwelled in darkness – but that was before she…