Dawn of the Shed
I've been writing in my shed. It's not quite a Jaguar. I love writing in the shed, especially at this time of year. It was a blustery, autumnal day, and you're much closer to the weather in the shed, its a thin defence against the elements. When the wind howls, it's that bit closer. When it rains, it's like you're Turner, lashed to the mast in a sea fret, big white shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. I like being buffeted by the wind and knowing I'm fine. It can't get me. I'm safe. I'm cosy. I work longhand in the shed. Lately I've been alternating between painting - always done in the house - and writing short stories, by hand, in the shed. There's no social media in the shed. No Alexa. No distractions. There's a fire damaged CD player and a collection of 10 CDs, which I listen to over and over again. Somehow, Spirit of Eden by Talk Talk is a house CD. Laughing Stock is a shed staple. I've been writing a book of short...
