“I carry you through the fields of rapeseed, wearing you like a rucksack. Sounds follow in our wake — the flattening of the crop, the distant motorway, the evening birdsong.”
My story ‘All the Way to the Coast’ is published over at Spelk today.
“I carry you through the fields of rapeseed, wearing you like a rucksack. Sounds follow in our wake — the flattening of the crop, the distant motorway, the evening birdsong.”
My story ‘All the Way to the Coast’ is published over at Spelk today.
Paul Thompson 