Raising boys

Against the mountain weather Jake is wearing a balaclava. Braced, completely concentrated, he is inching down the piste, Jake is eight and his thighs are wobbling with the effort, so that sweat licks down his red hair and his little skis rasp on the ice. Keep going Snake! I shout. You’re a beauty. Waiting for […]

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New Year

Everyone else had turned towards home and lunch; he could hear the shouts of the other boys as they followed the track over the river and down to the farmhouse. He and Fred climbed on towards a rocky outcrop. The sky was blue, there was snow on the tops. He carried Fred on his shoulders, […]

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Mont Blanc

Your pen is coffin-black, a casket for your dried ink which clotted into the thread, crackles when I turn the torpedo lid. The nib beaten gold, picked bone clean by the air, those mean years. Rolling up my sleeves I stand over a basin and with surgeon’s fingers sluice the pen. The water runs black […]

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