Assassin.

Was I in Disturbia? I plodded through dimly lit corridors that all seemed to connect to some giant Goth nightclub. The whole building mumbled ‘I’m a converted factory’. It wasn’t a feeling that I’d arrived there by choice or the small matter of my remaining there. All...

Flying Paint.

I once spent a brief period of time living in a house calledThe Reading Rooms in the picturesque Norfolk village of Brooke. I was there for two years living with my Father and his then ‘wife to be’. The Reading Rooms are haunted by a reasonably harmless phantom that...

The Carnival Is Over

A couple of days ago I was conducting photographic experiments in the sublimely drifting city of Norwichsmouth. My timing couldn’t have been better! There seemed to be a citywide carnival with visitors from every sphere, spilling into and colourfully tainting every...
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