The smallest things


can start a story.


I wasn’t searching for a theme but during  a walk yesterday I saw this strainer on its blue frayed string. The fact it was there, alone on an expanse of weather-flayed planking was intriguing and slightly eerie.

I don’t know how other writers commence an idea but for me, if there is a visual and resonant enough feeling about a place, an event or just something observed, the notion lodges itself in my head and refuses to be catalogued away until I’ve written about whatever it was or is.

There are three such ideas squatting my mind at present and interrupting everyday things to be dealt with – so, tea-strainer, lost driving licence or spooked housekeeper. Must start one before something else joins the wobbly cupboard of un-filed stuff up there.



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