Dusk in Cambridge

Dusk in Cambridge. Above the jumble of ancient church spires and modern concrete monstrosities, the sun begins to dim and slowly sinks from view, swallowed by the desolate fenland to make way for the heavy cloak of night. And with the dark comes the quiet. The market stalls are long gone, lectures are finished and … Continue reading Dusk in Cambridge

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The Wrong Escape

This opening to a story is inspired by a recurring dream I had, where a couple of friends appeared in my room in Florence, swore and jumped out the window. I never stayed asleep long enough to work out why they did that. “Fuck you!” he shouted, jumping from the window. Wilkins sighed. It was … Continue reading The Wrong Escape