Close

grief

‘The Night Shift’, by Libby R.

When he was dying, I swallowed a CoCodamol before bedtime as if it were hot chocolate. I craftily attributed my zen-like calm in the face of helping Dad as he pissed blood into a plastic pot at 3am – I don’t know what’s happening to me, he said, again and again – to my sensible […]

Read More

‘A Double Etheree on Living with M.E.’, by Linda Cosgriff

A man is ill. Whispered recollections of what he once was are all that sustain him.  He has no hope. His aching visions of what should have been kill comfort. What could have been is a lie.  He has no hope. He has no future. He has only now. Life took revenge for a life […]

Read More

‘On Scarborough beach, I played football’, by Paul Allender

On Scarborough beach, I played football.     This image is one of my new paintings. It is autobiographical and consists of two halves. One half reflects my early life growing up in Neepsend, an industrial area of Sheffield. The other half depicts me, as a child, on the beach with my football.     by Paul […]

Read More