Tag Archives: Cartwright Hall
Supermodel, with Balls
It was raining. Hard. Long-unused umbrellas opened like reluctant flowers, showering hurrying heads with dust and desiccated spiders. My new friends had driven me into Haworth for the evening from the refurbished cotton mill where I was staying. Nestled between … Continue reading
‘She’s leaving home…’
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Archaeoman away for some weeks and the muse’s voice inaudible. The frenzy wasn’t quite as bad as usual in the run-up to his departure, more of a prolonged shower than an … Continue reading