I’m sat in my writing room looking out at darkness once again. That isn’t entirely accurate of course. I can see the edges of the houses whose back gardens lead onto ours. I can make out the shape of a…
Sunday Poem – Steve Ely
I’ve discovered this week that I’m not very good at being ill. I have quite a few friends who live with chronic pain or illness and they always seem to be cheerful and full of good humour, and to just…
