Writer of Speculative Fiction and Masher of Notes for the Broken-Hearted

Tag: art

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When I’m gone and turned to dust,
You’ll still click my link, I trust,
Give us a like or even a love,
I’ll be watching from above,
If creation truly be not a sin,
Maybe my uploads will get me in?

Followers come and followers go,
Like lovers you never really know,
Unless they too have uploaded theirs,
And put in order their affairs,
So that they can also live forever,
By seeding clouds with their endeavour,
Hoping there might come a rain,
To drop them back to earth again,
If only to give a vague idea,
Of what it meant when they were here.

Will doc files cleanse the streets,
And bring on revolution?
Bedroom wavs rock halls of power,
Halting executions?
Will jpegs of outstanding worth,
Become like stained-glass,
Worshipped by some hipster,
Still talking out of his arse?

But what happens when,
The wind blows again,
And we all take shelter below?
If we survive,
Will we be deprived,
Of the things that we love and know?
If the cloud blows away,
And the authorities say,
That it was always our decision,
We submitted and signed,
We’ll become deaf and blind,
Under a deluge of derision,
Incision and division bells,
Silencing the voices,
That scream against the toughened glass,
Of gilted Rolls-Royces.

Take your books below with you,
And cherish all your vinyl,
So that if the cloud should fall as rain,
Your ecstasy won’t be final.

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The Shed of Revelations

Occasionally, a few friends and I undertake clean-up operations on the local beach. It was during one such outing when we discovered this mysterious thing.  

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We went a little closer to investigate and found something odd:

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No-one knew what to make of it.  

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Someone had meticulously stitched pages of the Bible – mostly from the book of Revelations – with fishing line and suspended them from what remained of the ceiling.  Some had been sewn into surrounding bushes, vines and roots, also.

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We stood in silence as the pages fluttered in the summer evening breeze, the sunlight catching the pages and creating strange shadows on the collapsing walls of the shed.  Someone finally spoke up:

‘What does it mean?’

No-one answered.

That night, I dreamt about the shed of Revelations.  The next day I knocked on the door of the house that was nearest the shed.  A lady answered and I asked if she knew anything about what we’d seen the day before.  She grew pale and denied any knowledge of it at all before slamming the door in my face.

What happened to it?

The next day, it was gone, sadly.  Not just the fishing line and the pages from the Bible, but the whole shed razed to the ground.

It was frustrating, because I would have liked to find out what would drive someone to go to all that trouble.  On the other hand, the fact that it was only there for a day or two made it all the more mysterious.  Was it meant to be art?  A message?  A creative cry for help?  A warning, even?

I suppose we’ll never know …

If you’d like to know how the mystery influenced a dystopian/existential/psychological horror novel, check out The Horseman’s Dream.

“Full of fascinating ideas” – Will Self
“Shockingly prescient” – Paul F (beta reader)
“One of the best books I’ve read in ages. I really love the pace of it and it just completely sucked me in. Barely noticed where we were and that last line was so poignant.” – Jade G (beta reader)

Don’t forget to use code REVELATIONS to get yours for only £2.26!


Learn more about Wirral’s mysteries and dark legends here.

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Chinatown Sketch

In tribute to one of my favourite films, I thought I’d sketch a scene to try out my new art stuff.  I haven’t drawn or painted anything since my A-levels and even though this is just a quick scrawl, it feels really good to be doing it again.Facebooktwitterredditpinterest

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