The Babe Magnet (In Dialogue)

“Call me old-fashioned but I like my pants clean, pressed and swishing.” “You’re old-fashioned.” “Thanks.” “You’re very welcome, gramps.” “There’s nothing wrong with looking and feeling smart.” “And there wasn’t in the seventies, either, eh?” “Cheeky sod.” “Look, I’m telling you this as your friend, purple velour pants and an orange crinoline shirt’s only gonna […]


 Her feet were tiny. Actually, that’s an overstatement, they were minuscule. She reminded me of a swallow on the wing, its little legs tucked up into its feathers, its claws going unnoticed. Where you and I might meander, she tottered. Where you and I might run, she staggered. To even balance in her children’s […]

50 Word Stories: Red Shoes

 The jukebox clicked over: Bowie, Let’s Dance. The tips of her long, auburn hair twitched, then shuddered, then shook. Her head swayed as her arms loosed themselves from her sides. Freedom. She was free. Lost and found. I watched her red shoes, a scarlet blur, and smiled. She deserved it.

50 Word Stories: She Moved

Beneath lights that stroked her skin in vermillion, cobalt and liquid gold, she danced. Her hair, black as night, dark as oil, swished from side to side like Medusa's snakes, alive and uncontrollable, the others revellers giving her beauty the room it demanded. When I pierced that room, she moved.


It's a rhythm felt Through the floor An all-encompassing beat Sending atoms all aquiver Destined to reach minds And swamp them Engulf them Electric, the buzz Transcendence, the goal We embrace with eyes closed Hearts on sleeves Pumping out blood Slick on the dance floor It's rhythmic A million perfect moments Tied with silk bows […]


Havana, where the girls have cocoa skin, Dancing while the paint flakes from orange peel walls, Twirling in the warm rain, sea spray at their backs. Old men recline at tables discussing not a thing, Cigars twisting beneath bushy moustaches; Not one is tired of the other. The tip tap of children playing  Does nothing […]