Vincent Fairweather Pettigrew the Third
Vincent Fairweather Pettigrew the Third prides himself on the quality of his labour. Every morning he rises at exactly five-oh-three
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Fuck Robin Hood
Fuck Robin Hood. Rob from the rich, he said! Life as an outlaw will be glamorous, he said, with nights
My City
My city is a city of districts. Each unique, each alone, yet together they form a whole that is transformed.
The Question
The world was fire. It happened in an instant. He was sitting at the table beside Mark, remnants of dinner
The Doodle
She looked up from the doodle, pen poised over one careful purple petal. “Huh?” she asked. “I said, is that
Fire Dance
The drum beats slowly, like a heartbeat. I step into the flames.
A Step Sideways
Looking down at himself, he couldn’t help feeling that life had not turned out exactly as he had imagined it
The Juggler
The alchemy must be correct. Not a hair, not a breath can ruin the balance of the moment. The crowd
I Don’t Know You
While my lovely artists have given me a generous buffer of images, I find myself lacking an equally generous buffer
That Summer
It was the summer he turned thirteen, the summer everyone told him that he was now a man, too old