Perfect Day

September 23, 2019

Yesterday. A perfect Sunday – lovemaking in the morning then breakfast in bed; showering together, then to the sea, the cooling sea. Lunch at that place overlooking the bay, before returning to the beach and the sea. Lovemaking through the afternoon in our solitary cove, the rhythm of the waves and the cry of circling gulls orchestrating our frantic pleasures. In that small cave sheltered from the rain showers. Home in the dark, and then diner – followed by bed and more lovemaking. A perfect night, ending a perfect day.

Sunday Morning again

June 23, 2019

Sunday shenanigans

June 9, 2019


Time for breakfast


June 2, 2019



Good Morning World

February 24, 2019

Day between –

November 25, 2018


Sunday nun 1

Diary 22nd May

Sunday is a day for silence and secrets.

Last night was raucous, drunken fun: we eat far too much, laughed far too much, and drank vino collapso until it was coming out of our ears.

Outside the restaurant the night was velvet soft, shimmering with this micro-fine drizzle; all the street lights were gem-starred. From the south you could smell the sea, conjuring images of crabs claws and hawsers – the sea despite rejection returns again and again to kiss the sandy shore.

My head flooded with the warm dark…Intoxicated with wine and the scent of women and the taste of the sea carried on the faintest of breezes. We went on a pub crawl…

Hazy memories of Karaoke – some of the worse singers I’ve ever heard. Gay young men, topless, laughing. Two girls kissing. Then after midnight our trip home…


Relax in the darkness or it will drown you. Breathe easy or it’ll flow into your lungs and choke you from inside out. Let your arms and legs float free to the surface…For once the darkness seems limited, ribbon-thin, without danger…All the predators sleeping.