Words from a final night in hell A curious cradling this, where soldiers get Cold fitful sleep beneath our parapet This lifeless August...

In my new life, I have time. Having never really had time before, it’s a strange commodity, and I today chose to spend a bit of it among...

The short period of my life when I felt at my most wanted came down to a week in early 1988 in the Czech town of Liberec, which once...

‘Flying,’ said Douglas Adams, ‘is learning how to throw yourself to the ground and miss’ I read into that that most of the worthwhile...

Winter came sliding off down the hill behind us last night, filling the gaps and hollows with frost. There is always a day when you awake...

Obviously, nurses are good. They make us better. And obviously war is bad. It makes us dead or, at least, not very well. Obviously Elin...

It was nine years ago that I took it home. My mother had died on St George’s Day, but we kept the house much as it was for the summer,...

‘Nothing is enough’, said Epicurus about nothing in particular, ‘for the man for whom enough is too little’. I find myself staring at a...

We finally laid the White Hunter season to rest by the sunny banks of a tributary of the Lot River on Sunday evening, a few kilometres...

They came to the power lines in their hundreds this morning, milling around and wheeling in the morning air before settling. They had...

My granny, who talked about politics all the time, said that we should never discuss politics, religion or sex at meals. Everyone said...

Anyone out there? Invisibility. What the writer dreads more than the loss of words itself. But right now, at this precise moment of 9.48...