At the bottom of the lane I slowed by the small copse that separated our lane from the main farm road. I dropped my bike on the verge and surveyed the woodland’s edge. Fortunately for me this section of frith had yet to be cleared and there were plenty of saplings to be raided. I jumped across the ditch and grabbed onto a young ash standing proud from the mass of newly emerging green. It took only a moment or two to select a couple of growing tips; slender and smooth and grey, their foliage still encased in cool black buds that looked for all the world like the hooves of tiny goats. Continue reading
I am the editor/publisher of the award-winning Alchemy Press (check out the website to see our range of books). The press has won the British Fantasy Society (BFS) Award for Best Small/Independent …
Source: Editorial/Publishing services
So there I was, sitting in the phlebotomy clinic’s waiting area waiting for my number to be called. Eventually a phlebotomist asked me: “Are you number 42?”
I said yes, followed her into the blood-letting area and said, “I am the ultimate answer to life, the universe, everything.” There were six phlebotomists who all looked somewhat bemused. “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?” I suggested. They stared at me as if I were raving mad. I shrugged, sat down, and was venesected.
The phlebotomist was new and obviously quite nervous. But she was very good, she didn’t panic (nor did I) and I didn’t feel a thing; not even a tiny prick.
No16 cafe in Tape Street hosted an evening of poetry and prose readings last Friday night as a part of the Cheadle Arts Week. Continue reading
So… when I arrive at the surgery only to be informed that the GP I had booked with was off sick – and off course her list has been transferred to Doc Doom – who always has room exactly because that Doc is avoided by everyone unless they are desperate… I was not happy – especially as this exact same thing happened last time I went there. But the receptionist got me onto another list. Okay – panic over. Continue reading
Source: Alchemy Fiction
Misha’s Smart Phone Blues
Yesterday I bought a new phone. At long last I’ve upgraded myself to the 21st century. My smart phone will do all sorts of things I haven’t yet discovered, including giving me the ability to keep in touch with my family when we travel to the Far East. All to the good, but there is a part of me that feels rather sad.
After all, there was nothing wrong with my dear old Nokia. It’s lived in my handbag for years and it never let me down. Its screen might be a little scratched, but it can still do the basic stuff, like making calls, taking messages, sending texts. It takes photos too and in theory has an email function, though it and I have never come to grips with that.
Still the time has come to say goodbye. The girl in the EE shop understood. She said it was like saying goodbye to a friend…
View original post 51 more words