Dull light from an unremarkable dusk breaks through the black storm clouds above, strolling through the front windows to throw a bruised, naked glow over his slumped frame. Sat lifeless at the kitchen table, he watches his crude, home-made water filter dribble every stagnant drop, his heart beating to the same brutal rhythm. Pooling in … Continue reading Flash Fiction: Plastic Rain
Bathed in an empty blue sky of an eager Spring, the sun peeked its hungry light over the tired North York Moors. Watching from my window, it grazed the rear flank of Roseberry Topping - a sweeping cliff-edge peak venerated from tea towel to town hall across the sleeping valley below. With the muffled rumble … Continue reading Message in a Bottle: Dung Beetles, Plastics and Pastoralism in the North York Moors.