The Courage of Lions [vii]

For Clare Redde He tried harder to rip his voice from his throat, to give the panic an escape, to fill this growing chamber of darkness. Othneil wondered if the red blotched world he had seen seemingly moments before still looked mockingly upon him, or whether that was part of him now too. The walking … Continue reading The Courage of Lions [vii]


18:12 (‘The Other Mr. Whitfield’) – i

'What's that track again? The one that goes like this?' He tried to drum out the tune but resorting to queasy humming when he couldn't manage. 'Ah! That's Tchaikovsky, the 1812. It was written to commemorate a victory for the Russians,' Paul explained, bringing in the Scotch and Marshmallows. A little after that time I … Continue reading 18:12 (‘The Other Mr. Whitfield’) – i

The Courage of Lions [vi]

Not for the squeamish ~ When he opened his eyes, his eyelids slid open too fast, with not even a hint of muscular release, and it felt absurd, an alien sensation. The air around Othneil felt cold and hard. It was only then he realised whence he came had had no temperature, or reflected his … Continue reading The Courage of Lions [vi]

The Courage of Lions [v]

A haunting metronome clicking ran deep through Othneil’s jugular, down his lungs and through to the quivering edge of his bowel. It sounded like a timepiece without the precise regularity, as if Othneil could tell when the cogs and gears were rattled about. Melting into the spot where he stood, he tried to ascertain a … Continue reading The Courage of Lions [v]

The Courage of Lions [iv]

Long time coming! Othneil’s howls lodged themselves further down his throat with each infinity small world he came across. This new place, this throbbing, amber theatre, was brimming with collections of the small spheres, like the one from whence he had come. For a while he noticed no pattern between them, scrambling from one to … Continue reading The Courage of Lions [iv]

The Courage of Lions [iii]

The Grey was blissful at first; it was new, and mild compared to the chilling nothingness of the black before, or the cutting contrast of the monochrome web. Where he had danced up the web, Othneil now felt himself floating. It seemed ludicrous to be hovering in the air when every part of his surrounding … Continue reading The Courage of Lions [iii]

The Courage of Lions [ii]

Desperately, he began to claw and clamber up the lines, but they were merely light, indicators of ridges though not ridges themselves. Catching his fingernails against all the wrong edges, Othneil stepped backward and forced himself to breathe. When light had been elusive for so long, it was not surprising to pin its sudden appearance … Continue reading The Courage of Lions [ii]

The Courage of Lions [i]

It smelt of Reindeer blood. It smelt of the breeze catching the scent of buddleias. It smelt of the smouldering of molten gold and dusty burning of his bones. This place smelt of everything for the moment, because it was filled with Othneil’s memories. The only way to normalise it – filling an infinite space … Continue reading The Courage of Lions [i]

In Search of Mosu Ogurek, II… (Holocaust Memorial Day)

Last night I uploaded this as a little taster of the creative processes currently in motion for my creative piece on Holocaust awareness and identity - hoping to adopt different narrative styles to my Dissertation piece. Usually these sort of things would have been released or used on Holocaust Memorial Day, but with my creative … Continue reading In Search of Mosu Ogurek, II… (Holocaust Memorial Day)

The Stranger, Mr. Whitfield – Spontaneously inspired drawing

Thirty-three minutes later, another sketch has come a little out of nowhere! Here it is: What you can see in the background is an attempted drawing of Dresden Christmas Market, as seen here: Credit: Part of my curiosity surrounding an existence in this Swansea-based AU reality, which has rapidly become a NaNoWriMo project … Continue reading The Stranger, Mr. Whitfield – Spontaneously inspired drawing