The institution is 456 years old, it has millions of pounds in assets, it fights for social justice at home and abroad, it has some degree of political influence. There can't be many people in this country who are not aware of it in one way or another. But why do you stay? Think deeply … Continue reading To My Church of Scotland Friends
Category: writing
Frost
It was -7c in the night but now morning is here and the frost lies scattered like ashes. It's Thanksgiving Day. beat-beat-breathe. beat-beat-breathe In the early hours I held her hand, bones wrapped in bulging veins and parchment skin. She closed her eyes and asked me every thirty seconds of that blue-light half hour to … Continue reading Frost
The Image in the Dust
One of the most unassumingly bizarre experiences of life so far was sticking my head round the door to do a breathing check for one of the residents and finding him watching television. Watching television at 2am is not unusual in and of itself, it was the fact that he lay there, helpless and a … Continue reading The Image in the Dust
Why I Write
Once upon a time there were three bears. They lived in a house in the woods. One day they went for a walk and Goldilocks found their house. She ate their porridge and went to sleep in their bed. When they came back they were so angry they gobbled her up. So reads the earliest … Continue reading Why I Write
More Notes From My Pockets
Once more I have very little to say (it happens sometimes) so here's some snippets from my notebook. I stared at him, unsure how to respond to the compliment hanging expectantly in the air between us and I wanted so badly to cry because this was not how it was meant to be. But I … Continue reading More Notes From My Pockets
The Rebelutionary Road
The Rebelution is no longer just a teenage rebellion against low expectations. Because we are rebelutionaries, we rejected the Neverland nature of our generation. The inevitable yet desirable has happened: we have grown up. And everything has changed and nothing has changed since we first began to walk the Rebelutionary Road
Notes From My Pockets
Just for a change, I'm going to post a few excerpts from my notebook. I keep a little book which fits in my pocket and when I find nice words, I pick them up and slip them between the pages for later. Here are a few: I smile and tell myself along with everyone else … Continue reading Notes From My Pockets
Meeting Hizkia
It's a couple of years since I wrote this but I found it in my notebook while clearing out the other day. It's an adventure I think of often and with mixed feelings. * * * Breaking the rules always causes pain or discomfort further down the line. The rule was this: Don't get … Continue reading Meeting Hizkia
Partly Accident, Wholly Grace (testimony part 2)
It's sort of snowing outside but it's warm in here. The table is slightly wobbly. They all are, it's one of the quirks of the place and the reason we usually sit on the sofas in the corner. Savinni's is my favourite. It has been since I first came to Dingwall all that time ago. … Continue reading Partly Accident, Wholly Grace (testimony part 2)
Marvin K.
It had just started to snow that soggy, icy kind of snow as the Inverness train pulled out of Haymarket Station. I wasn't going to Ness though, I was going home, and that line in itself is telling. It is also telling that the first thing I did when I sat down was stare out … Continue reading Marvin K.