I am a creature of routines. Or at least I used to be. Alarm at five, cup of tea, check the news, rise, get ready, don the dark suit and crisp pastel…
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A famous critic once wrote a book called “Keats and Embarrassment”. I have never read it but remember thinking that’s something really important you’ve stumbled on, the importance of embarrassment. For those…
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The final batch…for now 1963 The snow lasted that year Deep into Spring. The playground toilets Froze, school became Optional for those Who could stay at home Or had the guts to…
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It gives me great pleasure to read and publish these poems – I wish I had Richard’s talent… M5 Swans I saw them again The swans grazing In little groups Of…
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Another batch of verse from Mr H. Snowdrops White dots On pale green shoots Winter’s first Punctuation. Hard to imagine A flower furled So unobtrusively. Hard to remember Such tiny heralds Of…
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Further poetry from the ‘pen’ of Just Write’s much-missed bard… TV Memories I try to think back To when Christmas Was not framed By TV memories Childhood, certainly. Even the Queen’s speech…
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Richard wrote this first poem after making a return visit to Chesham. He was in a coffee shop at the time, of course… Being Back The familiar shops Drinkers outside The brewing…
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On a recent visit to Waterstones in Amersham, it was wonderful to see our books of short stories being promoted alongside short stories by ‘other’ authors… With Tom Hanks, Jojo Moyes and…
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Just Write attended the garden party given by our local charity of choice, The Hospice of St Francis, in the grounds of Ashridge House on Sunday 3rd June. It was a beautiful…
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I’m not an adult but a boy, fifty years ago. I’m seated at the end of a long table with thirty boys either side of it in a vast dining hall overlooked…
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Not Like My Dad When I was still at primary school I swore I’d never get angry like my Dad When I grew to be a man And dreamed of chairing Family…
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It had been a long day and Marina was tired. Her head ached with all the information she was trying to process. She decided to go back to the hotel, to try…
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For once, Ivan seemed in more of a hurry to get away than Marina. ‘I need to take this to a jeweller’s,’ he said, stuffing the necklace into his back pocket. ‘I…
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‘So tell me, Sally, why are you here at the Yusupov Palace?’ Marina looked into the eyes of the man who called himself Ivan and thought about how ridiculous her story sounded.…
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Marina knew why she was in St Petersburg, and why she was now standing in the Moorish drawing room of the Yusupov Palace. But why was Ivan here? She was following a…
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The journey across the River Neva was unbelievable. Buildings on either side rose up, confronting Marina, beckoning her further into this landscape which was both breathtaking and depressing depending on which side…
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Marina’s heart was in her mouth as she rushed towards the zoo exit. The clue could only refer to one person in St Petersburg in 1917 – Rasputin. But which of the…
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A chill wind wrapped itself around Marina’s shoulders as she walked away from the Fortress, her thoughts of the dismal prison cell adding to the gloom of the late afternoon. The sun…
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After only a few steps Marina stopped short, feeling suddenly dizzy. She stepped aside from a tour group approaching the church door and sank down on a low stone wall. The scrap…
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Marina breathed in the cold air as she stood at the top of the aeroplane steps. The sun was shining but the bitter St Petersburg wind needled her face as she descended…
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It wasn’t a day for dying. It was early spring and hope was in the air. Birdsong was reaching a crescendo and new growth was everywhere, above and below. Cloistered in a…
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Just Write is at it again! We are writing a new collaborative serial for publication on this website. Each author is writing one chapter and has 48 hours to write their section…