Category Archives: Shorts

What Pegman Saw: Semjaza’s Descent

This wasn’t his first tour of duty; he’d been stationed here twice, though it was his first visit to this southern continent. He shuddered and quivered: his body’s rebellion. How did the grey techs do it? It wasn’t only the … Continue reading

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A Salve for My Skin

Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake … Um, ladies … Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog. Ladies, wait! Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s … Continue reading

Posted in On Writing, Shorts | Tagged , , | 37 Comments

What Pegman Saw: Portland Bill

Portland Bill built a still in his cellar deep Asked his ally, Emerald Sally, his secret for to keep She kept it well, she dug a well, his moonshine for to store All was fine till the cops saw the … Continue reading

Posted in Rhymes (Some Silly), Shorts | Tagged , | 59 Comments

What Pegman Saw: This Warm Place

This Tiflis, this Thilisi; this warm place. Where to Tamar once the farmers gave their grain Where Jason, seeking a golden fleece, a wife did gain Where the sacred fires of Zarathustra burned And initiates of the celestial Mithras turned … Continue reading

Posted in History, Rhymes (Some Silly), Shorts | Tagged , , , | 10 Comments

The Sands of Nag Hammadi

In 1945 thirteen leather-bound papyrus codices were found at Nag Hammadi, Egypt, believed buried after 367 when St Athanasius declared anathema such non-canonical books. Today, all but a few of the 52 treatises recovered are known as the Gnostic Gospels. … Continue reading

Posted in History, Shorts | Tagged , , | 22 Comments

What Pegman Saw: Piss-Poor Pete

I have a soft spot for Piss-Poor Pete. Born to penniless parents, far from a beach in Northern Territory; cut school early to earn a living; couldn’t find work so joined the army; broke his back vaulting a horse and … Continue reading

Posted in Shorts | Tagged , | 37 Comments

Four Funerals and a Wedding

What a week. Four funerals attended, done nothing but rain. But come Saturday week I don’t care if the sun does hide. For then strong-limbed  young Bridget becomes my flame-headed Bride. Oops, not Rams Island, not even Northern Ireland. My … Continue reading

Posted in Shorts | Tagged , | 17 Comments