My photo
I am a writer of novels, plays and film scripts. I live in Manchester England with my partner Andy and our teenage son Jack. Andy and I started my Newsletter Raw Meat and began publishing with Rawprintz in 1999 to showcase my work. Some of you may be confused by my continual references to Ziggy, that’s my wheelchair! Both Andy and I are writers. I’ve recently lost my sight – hence the continual reference to my being confused! Thanks for visiting.

My Comrades...


Writers Island Unforgetable.

For the Writer's Island prompt: Unforgetable


Stepping out onto the mantelpiece from a smoky shroud of the mirror, Alice hesitated for a moment; it was a long way down and she feared she might break something- either her own leg or perhaps one of the little moving creatures scattered on the carpet far below. So she clambered down, lowering herself carefully by degrees- taking care all the time that her feet should not make contact with the wriggling, squirming things along side. Bending down, she examined them- what could these things be? They didn’t exist on the other side of the mirror, that was for certain. Alice glanced into the fireplace and noticed the absence of any flames here- another thing that was changed in Looking-Glass House. She held one of the red squirming creatures in the palm of her hand and looked at it closely, bending so closely that the ends of her hair tickled her hand, as did the spiky points of the kings crown.

“Wait a moment! I recognise you… you’re the king, aren’t you?” Cried Alice, though she wasn’t quite certain if he would be able to hear or not… in this world, everything seemed different. The king continued to squirm, seeming more frightened then ever. “Please don’t be frightened- I won’t hurt you,” Alice reassured him, speaking as gently as she could. “It’s just that… I’m very surprised to see you alive and moving. As I’ve just seen you, your static on the chessboard… how can such a thing be true? My eyes must be deceiving me!”

Eventually the king found his voice and began to scream… it wasn’t a loud sound at all, more like a shrill whistling of a kettle. Never the less Alice wanted him to stop right away.

“Please don’t do that! Do you want me to drop you from such a height- I may break you- you must be quiet,” said Alice firmly, setting the chess piece down quickly on the edge of the fireplace. She watched the king sit down at once, regardless of the ashes around him. The red queen came hurrying up to him and tried to help him compose himself once more into a royal chess piece. Alice watched them distantly.

“This is a curious thing indeed! Moving chess pieces… I shall have to make a note of it in my Memorandum book right away, or else I shall forget it.” So saying, she took out her little book from the pocket of her pinafore and turned the pages carefully to that days space. Then she searched around for a pencil, for she was sure she had seen one in the original room… so surely it must be the same over here? Sure enough, eventually she found the pencil, - though it seemed to be a little changed, though she wasn’t quite sure exactly why. As she began to write in her book, she found the pencil felt quite heavy and difficult to control. She couldn’t work it out.

“What is going on? This pencil has a mind of it’s own… it seems to be writing all manner of things I don’t intend at all.” Eventually she laid the pencil down, and noticed there was something hanging on the end of it- another moving and wriggling chess piece of course, probably one of the pawns. Alice tried to shake it loose angrily.

“This really is too bad! Everything seems to be against me in this world… obviously Looking-Glass House is not meant for me. Perhaps I should go back through the mirror, and be done with these wriggling things.”

Still the pawn clung on to the end of Alice’s pencil, forcing it to move up and down the page to make random lines… or at least they seemed at first to be perfectly random though as Alice examined them they seemed to form some sort of shape…

To be continued… ?


  1. I especially love the "still the pawn clung on the end of Alice's pencil"... lovely!

  2. Sometimes the words we feel we want just don't seem to come, and we look for something to blame. Great study of a writer in turmoil - like being in a strange land, where nothing is familiar.

  3. Now I am waiting anxiously to see what the lines meant!!


Thanks for visiting please leave a comment.