In 1946 George Orwell penned an essay titled ‘Why I Write’. Here is his last paragraph, which rather sums up his view: ‘Looking back through the last page or two, I see that I have made it appear as though my motives in writing were wholly public-spirited. I don't want to leave that as the … Continue reading Why I Write

or perhaps something else?

She was a hag of a woman, the priest’s wife, Thorbjörg. Dour with a sour face. Always grimacing, hard enough to scare a goat off its feed.

Times were tougher than I knew. We had never had much, so it was not unusual to go without, when it was common for friends to have things that I couldn’t have. But it did mean that when special things happened, like steak dinner or new running shoes, that it was a big deal. Small … Continue reading The Mother’s Day Tax

The Earth will still be here in a hundred years; humans may not be.