Herring House: Stories and Other Writing

  A long while ago when I used to live with my mum and Dave, my sister in Ormesby near Yarmouth, we had a big garden with hedges and trees.  I liked climbing them and hiding in the hedges where no one could find me because it was my own place (my self place) where I could think.  Sometimes, I liked climbing trees and siting under them to think about things. Now, I live in Great Yarmouth. You can't think so much as I did but when I had a dog called Pebbles, I walked miles and that makes you think. That was my space as well. In the absence of trees, there aren't any in Yarmouth, there was always my dog.  Cathy

  Thank you my friends. Thank you for giving all of us what we need to live. Thank you for the things we need to eat. Thank you for keeping me warm, Thank you for keeping me cool. Thank you for your beauty. Thank you for holding me as a child, for being a place to meet and sometimes to get lost.  We even named some of you, you know so much fun we had together. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've not seen you enough.  I've seen you but I've not spend time with you.  I hope I do soon. You are worth more than gold. You're even waving at me every time I see you from afar. You are an amazing friend, provider. All my love, Daniel.

  An experimental group poetry experience - courtesy of Jason Parr - some of the results are below: One serious person laughed up on a laptop screen - already taken 3 years - still waiting, contemplating an empty cupboard by the seashore in the sand dunes.  Two legs walking through ahes, hot embers flashing, burning. The dead Toreador loses spark and sense, tomorrow is at an end.  Three weeks in one dash camera - all the last touches for the better effect of a picture frame depicting a man and his many inventions, in the garden, in the sunshine.  Four days before the Easter eggs were scrambled, chicks roasted, his brother came to visit him, bringing popcorn. The microwave went on and a number of years passed fuill of a wonderful grace and dinners.  The winding tree, Simon with camouflage and the beauty of spring singing from beneath. On the sunny side of the green, the lady stands proud. A flash of red amidst the green trying to make out what you have seen. T...