Our pockets full of stones, we went in search of the needle in the haystack, the one the undertaker uses to prick your neck the surgeon to administer his ether, x the night to blacken its windows. It’s the blue one tipped with blood, and the eye through which you chase the dragon, the shining … Continue reading Needle in a Haystack, poetry by Richard Hedderman →

I arrived in Turkiye with a backpack and two boxes—one full of my clothes and the other some books, determined to complete the manuscript that I felt was taking me forever to write. My plane from Stanstead landed in Antalya at around 5 in the evening. Once I’d claimed my baggage and stepped out into … Continue reading Letter from Turkiye →