Demons (Caravaggio in Malta)

I have demons. They’re like the angry mob in old Westerns. The ones that clamour outside the sheriff’s office.  Their goats gottenby loose tonguesat the saloonand too muchcheap whiskey. I’ve just woken from a sleepthat would be a good dry run...

The Year of the Squirrel

Another sailing season is over.  The big ships have been put to bed: their cargoes carried, their ballast out, their soft lines snugging them safe ashore, their sailors’ now home for a rest. Back in the city warm temperatures prevail.  This isn’t...