Monthly Archives: November 2016

191. The Wortley Poisoner

They sit shoulder to shoulder in the Ford Fiesta police car, sipping cold coffee, staring through a windscreen that is slowly turning opaque from the settling dust that blows across the fence from the adjacent quarry. The sergeant grunts, ‚ÄúTurn … Continue reading

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190. Fisherman’s Friend.

Cycling along the canal tow path in the drizzle, wet leaves plastered on the path and drifting on the oily black water – a bleak and mournful sight. Crows heave themselves reluctantly into the damp air as I go by, … Continue reading

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189. Dog.

I am lying in the half light of an Autumn Sunday morning, still half submerged in the last weak waves of sleep that are only just beginning to recede, exposing the flotsam and jetsam of a new day for my … Continue reading

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