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Stories

The English Writer

The English Writer

Thoughts to words to thoughts…

106
Writings
41
Followers
49
Following
The English Writer

The English Writer

Thoughts to words to thoughts…

106
Writings
41
Followers
49
Following
So We Wait

The English Writer

1 min read

L: Let’s walk on the pavement into the centre of town. We should be there in about seven minutes and thirty four seconds give or take.


R: The pavement? In some places they call it a sidewalk. In any case we should go through the park into town, along the little stony dirt track along the river.


L: How long will that take? Probably two or three times as long as just walking straight in along the ...

1
Space

The English Writer

1 min read

Boredom, the space where we really think








Before commiting our thoughts








To ink







The space taken by apps and phones







Turning us into thoughtless drones







Never bored, in the outdoors or in our homes








Existing only in our phones







Without the mental space for boredom







Sitting thoughtful by the sea







Awaiting serendipity







Without boredom, who is fre...

Poetry

1
104: The Big Wash

The English Writer

1 min read

In crystal streams that barely flow,

Where sun-dappled shadows come and go,


A tiny fish with dreams so vast

Watched village life drift slowly past.


Each morning brought the same small sights:

The water-worn stones, the filtered lights,


Three lazy minnows drifting by,

The same patch of endless sky.


But deeper currents pulled his heart,

Whispers of a world apart,

Where mighty waters rushed and r...

3
Spiral

The English Writer

1 min read

Like a spiral staircase

Drawn by the hand of Escher


Life lived in the mind

Stale memories grow fresher


A relived past

We try to change forever


Mental simulations

Hindsight


The irony of spiralling rumination

While trying to get our minds right


Ending up as stagehands

While dreaming of the limelight


Half heartedly chasing it

And finally facing it


Nothing will come of us

And so it ever wa...

Poetry

6
Ice Skating

The English Writer

1 min read

Swift, delicate and pearly white

With eyes as dark as night


Silky voiced

Fleet of foot


Silently wandering over

Creeking wood


Old houses

Steep stairwells

Covered in egg shells


Is today the day that she’s nice,

Or am I skating on thin ice...

Poetry

Sweet Potato Pudding

The English Writer

1 min read

My grandmother always told me


Grate the sweet potato


Never blend it


Befriend its texture through toil


Or the pudding will spoil


Sticky and blocky, not sweet and fluffy


Lovely and yummy and orange


And glazed


You must grate it, not blend it


For hours unfazed


Then mix it, bake it and leave it to cool


You must grate it, not blend it


You’ll end up a fool


So grate it, shake it, mix it an...

Poetry

3
100: The New World

The English Writer

4 min read

The Cathedral loomed like a giant’s tomb, its towering spire clawing at the storm-laden sky. Inside, Walter sat on the cold, splintering pew, his head bowed in mock piety. Around him, a sea of peasants huddled, their breath fogging the frigid air. From the pulpit, Father Anselm’s voice droned in harsh, alien Latin: “Dominus dixit: servite dominis vestris sicut me.” Serve your lords as you would ...

Adventure

Drama

3
Carbon Copies

The English Writer

6 min read

‘That’s Tony’s son, I know it!’. This, surprisingly wasn’t the first time it’d happened at some big family or diaspora event. One of grandad’s old friends or acquaintances recognised me.


My face, was simply my dad’s face, which he in turn had inherited from grandad. A little clone, prone to defensiveness and with a knack for making complexed things. Or pulling everything in the house apart to the...

Romance

Adventure

1
Vapour

The English Writer

1 min read

Flora took a deep breath. Deep enough that she could feel her nostrils flair into the little stiff, inviting roundels Alex found so cute. They were currently rather pink, going on red rimmed in the depths of winter.


She’d just gotten to Leopold cafe on Avenue De Tervueren, or is it Tervuerenlaan? Flora sat in a plywood corner stuffed with oversized cushions. Trendy, cozy, Gezellig. Agréable she t...

1
Easy

The English Writer

2 min read

Perfect, and getting better by the day.


That’s the only way I can describe my life. It goes through these periods of sustained calm, steadily growing toward the ‘good’.


It hadn’t started so easily. The early years were far from a suburban dream, they were grass filled but urban. We came up in the intermittent chaos of a very large city.


Tumultuous, exciting and always things going on. Cultures ...

Drama

Humour

3