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Jane Pickard’s Bicycle

Jane Pickard’s Bicycle

Jane Pickard lived down the road from me as a kid. Her Dad was the local plumber and they lived in a big rambling house that he was refurbishing. The house sat back, across a gently banked field from the lane into the valley. For a time, in the summer of 1980, Jane...

The brother-in-law who got away

On Friday I heard the news that Ewan Moffet, Phil’s friend and ex-boyfriend had lost his battle with cancer.

For me, Ewan will always be  the brother-in-law that got away. It’s not surprising then that my most vivid memory of him occurred when he wasn’t there in person.

Romany Cream: lost in the Highlands

“We are either here,” Pauline is still panting from the strenuous hike we’ve made along a stony game path up the mountain. She prods at our sodden Ordinance Survey map, “or here.” She points to a different spot. “If we are here, we still stand a chance to make the time cut off.”

Memoir: A memory of childhood

Memoir: A memory of childhood

Here’s a short piece that won a recent writing challenge. The challenge was to write about a formative childhood experience.

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