Category Archives: Mostly Micro

To Spin, or Not to Spin …

Posted on May 28, 2019 by crispina kemp

‘Listen,’ Kerrid said. ‘When you spin fibres to make thread, you do the spinning and the fibres are spun.’ ‘Wrong, Wise-Woman.’ Huat shook his head at her. ‘I don’t spin. If I could do spinning, I wouldn’t need you to … Continue reading →

Posted in Mostly Micro, On Writing, The Spinner's Game | Tagged , , , | 39 Comments

CCC#28: The Paint Job

Posted on May 23, 2019 by crispina kemp

Major Marjoram was a trifle discombobulated to find a young man in his garden with palette and easel. ‘And who the blinking blighty are you?’ he bellowed across the hen-pecked yard. ‘Me?’ the young man looked round to see who … Continue reading →

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Mostly Micro | Tagged , , , | 36 Comments

What Pegman Saw: Maureen Applegate’s Black Bastard

Posted on May 20, 2019 by crispina kemp

To see him stood like a sentinel beside his suitcase, a photo clutched to his chest, brought unstoppable tears to Maureen’s eyes. ‘That, my boy,’ his father had said, ‘is where we’re to live.’ ‘Now you remember,’ Maureen told him. … Continue reading →

Posted in Mostly Micro | Tagged , | 29 Comments

No Denial

Posted on May 14, 2019 by crispina kemp

Did you love him? Who me? Don’t be ridiculous. Did you send him that letter? Certainly not. I would not. Did you take the photos? Of him and that girl? No, wasn’t me. Did you tamper with his car? And … Continue reading →

Posted in Mostly Micro | Tagged , | 26 Comments

What Pegman Saw: Stones for the Dead

Posted on May 13, 2019 by crispina kemp

Wood is for the living; stone for the dead. That’s the old way. Yes, Papa, but if we keep chopping down trees and grubbing them up, there’ll be nothing left but the ancestral stones. My boy, my boy, we honour … Continue reading →

Posted in History, Mostly Micro, Thoughts | Tagged , , , | 33 Comments

CCC#26: Mutton Jeff

Posted on May 9, 2019 by crispina kemp

Jeff strained on tiptoes atop his post. But still no sign of his relief. Do not leave your post, they drummed into him when first he enlisted. And his post was to guard this stretch of coast. Bored, frustrated, he … Continue reading →

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Mostly Micro | Tagged , , | 17 Comments

What Pegman Saw: Semjaza’s Descent

Posted on April 22, 2019 by crispina kemp

This wasn’t his first tour of duty; he’d been stationed here twice, though it was his first visit to this southern continent. He shuddered and quivered: his body’s rebellion. How did the grey techs do it? It wasn’t only the … Continue reading →

Posted in Mostly Micro | Tagged , | 31 Comments

A Salve for My Skin

Posted on April 16, 2019 by crispina kemp

Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake … Um, ladies … Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog. Ladies, wait! Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s … Continue reading →

Posted in Mostly Micro, On Writing | Tagged , , | 39 Comments

What Pegman Saw: Portland Bill

Posted on April 15, 2019 by crispina kemp

Portland Bill built a still in his cellar deep Asked his ally, Emerald Sally, his secret for to keep She kept it well, she dug a well, his moonshine for to store All was fine till the cops saw the … Continue reading →

Posted in Mostly Micro, Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , | 59 Comments

What Pegman Saw: This Warm Place

Posted on April 8, 2019 by crispina kemp

This Tiflis, this Thilisi; this warm place. Where to Tamar once the farmers gave their grain Where Jason, seeking a golden fleece, a wife did gain Where the sacred fires of Zarathustra burned And initiates of the celestial Mithras turned … Continue reading →

Posted in History, Mostly Micro, Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , , , | 10 Comments