I loved to watch my mother smoke. She looked like Lauren Bacall as she lifted the lighter to the cigarette that perched on her parted lips, then she’d flick the gas spark, a perfect flame igniting the crisp white tobacco paper. As she drew a long deep inhale her cheeks became concave with the power Read More
Aince upon a day my mither said to me: Dinna cleip and dinna rype And dinna tell a lee. For gin ye cleip a craw will name ye, And gin ye rype a daw will shame ye; And a snail will heeze its hornies out And hike them round and round about Gin ye tell Read More
All Tied Up The rain falls in diagonal lines, bouncing off the roof of the car in continuous percussion. Water streams down the sloped driveway towards the house where the front door opens and a figure steps out. A man’s boot lands heavily in a puddle, sending water flying. “For fuck’s sake,” he exclaims eyeing Read More
Under The Weather – KT Tunstall (2004) /on homesickness I inherited my voice from my mum. On the phone, no one can tell us apart. Even my gran, her mother, used to mistake us. She would talk to me for a whole five or six minutes before asking ‘what’s Rebecca doing?’ She thought she was Read More
