Tag Archives: Edinburgh

275. “Dum, dum, dum dum, dum, dum, dum dum….” (25 Apr. 18).

To any of you who may have been foolhardy enough to have held your breath after the last piece I posted, I hope you rest in peace, and know that I can’t make the same fool of you twice. After … Continue reading

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273. Edinburgh mornings 19: What a great day it’s been. (21 Apr. 18).

This “Edinburgh morning” actually concerns events from the afternoon on Saturday just past (21/04). I’ve fudged the timeline to fit the name of the series. I know it’s unforgivable. I claim artistic licence. There’s been a clutch of these come along … Continue reading

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268. Edinburgh mornings 15: It’s a haar life. (13 Apr. 18).

Seems that every time I post something new the phrase “It’s been a while since my last post but….” is a bit more scuffed and worn than the last time I abused it. So I’m giving it a day off … Continue reading

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116.Queen of the Hibees. (07/03/2016).

Something that came to life whilst on a writing course at the start of the year, like a lot of things it just kind of evolved into what it is.  It was enjoyable nonsense to write, which is how it … Continue reading

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117. The poem without an ending.(19/03/2016).

In a break with the recent couple of pieces, something unconnected to bedrooms. Something purely whimsical but all the same sincere. Don’t be put off by the title, it really is quite short . 117. The poem without an ending.(19/03/2016). … Continue reading

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72.My favourite dancers dying. (‎12 ‎April ‎2015).

This was a fairly easy piece to write for the most part, in terms of the words and how they came initially. But it was an awkward, painful at times, piece to write and to read as it was being … Continue reading

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96. The lift has stopped. (19 July 2015).

No “Outtakes” to tag onto the bottom of this piece. It was pretty much done as it is in the one sitting of an evening this summer just passed. Full of the trademark uplifting jollity, it’s a rumination on some … Continue reading

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111.The soup and bread. (03 Nov. 2015).

Heading down the hill that runs on from the bottom of Broughton Street the other day, on a day off going towards a lunch cooked by someone else this is simply what I saw. I had to add, hopefully just … Continue reading

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104. A walk between two bridges. (23rd Aug 2015)

It’s a few months since I passed into the third year since the creative writing began properly, with the kind of regularity that has made it now feel a natural part of who I am. This is part of the … Continue reading

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103. The Festival. (All the arts in red and black). 15 August 2015.

One for the local inhabitants this one. And you don’t have to have been born here to feel the seasonal fatigue in a city whose population apparently doubles at this time of year, among others, and the tourists are never … Continue reading

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