Living in a box – Sean Borodale’s Bee Journal
It began as an idle thrumbing, blending with the shiver of the branches. The path ahead looked the same as …
Previous articles
The Unforgettable Fire – Anthony Owen’s My Father’s Eyes Were Blue
As we’d travelled to Würzburg to visit friends, there had been no mugging up in a guidebook beforehand. It felt …
Ruined in a day – Jacob Polley’s The Havocs
Alan Bennett‘s new play, People, closes with the line ‘Let lost be lost. Let gone be gone, and not fetched back.’ …
I am a Camera – Paul Farley’s The Dark Film
I was content to sit on the pebbles, lit by the heatless fluorescence of the winter sun and enjoying the …
This must be underwater love – Richard Meier’s Misadventure
Cleaning the roof of my narrowboat one morning, I slipped and cartwheeled into the Thames. Despite my love of rivers, …
Take up your cross and follow me – Andrew Motion’s The Customs House
If you’re ever on the A34 near Basingstoke, then consider stopping at Burghclere. The main road is unchanged since painted …
Me and my shadow – Egg Printing Explained by Katy Evans-Bush
With a jolt I realised that I was standing at the foot of my own grave. Sergeant John Field, 1803339, of …
I am the invisible man – Olivia McCannon’s Exactly My Own Length
Rush hour is cruel to those going nowhere. To stand frozen as the city wheels about, reconfiguring itself for dinners …
Rogues’ Gallery
How many of my muses can you name? Thank you to my brother, Peter James Field, for the banner which …
The Passionate Shepherd – Leontia Flynn’s These Days
Friends were surprised when I said that my narrowboat wouldn’t prove popular with the ladies. ‘What’, they asked ‘about the …
Poor Rude Lines 