The man who lived in a house of mirrors

An old photo I've been messing around with in Photoshop lately. Tentatively entitled 'Another Life'

Well, I've been doing little recently except reading, working out, and watching movies. A bit of writing too. The deadline for this year's uni Creative Writing Competition & Anthology approaches and so far I've got one poem I need to finish up and edit, one rather short prose piece that I'm considerably less confident about than when I wrote it, and a rather longer one (it'll be around 2000 words I think) that I started today and quite like so far. The working title is 'The Man Who Lived in a House of Mirrors' and it has a sort of parable-ish vibe to it. It's all about how we use art to reflect the cluttered junkyards that are our inner selves, which can be cathartic and can also be like wandering purposefully into a maze from which we may never really return. It's been fun to write and I think it'll probably be the one I submit

'The Crisis'

Have you ever seen stone rot away in seconds or dissolve like sugarlumps in boiling water? That was on the day the ceiling collapsed and the shadows of airships fell through the building’s cracked ribcage. I recall them drifting corpulently like boats seen from below the water. It seemed like we ran for hours after that, never fully escaping the shade.

The start of a short new piece (click here to read more) that I'm working on and thinking of submitting for this year's Creative Writing Competition/Anthology at London Met.