Daniel Doherty’s Blog

My gaze is outward. My book has fallen into my lap. It rests rather heavily, as, watching through the window I see the young mother push her baby up the hill. She stops, though in truth she was walking so slowly that the process of stopping was imperceptible. She crushes the butt of her cigarette beneath her half booted heel, wearily exhaling the final cloud of smoke as she absently inspects her child. She tugs

The Undivided Trinity. “The time of my departure is approaching. Nigh is the hurricane that will scatter my leaves. Tomorrow, perhaps, the wanderer will appear – His eye will search for me round every spot,  And will, – not find me.” Thomas Chatterton, quoted in ‘Chatterton’, Peter Ackroyd, 1987. The evening sky casts its spell over a desolate Millennium Square as three bronze statues, one modern two ancient stir slowly as their shadows lengthen. Cary

To John Buckley……….. 6/ 03/ 1992. It was a perfect autumn morning, near my birthday time. I was luxuriating in a rare day away from client work. Making a desultory attempt at clearing my desk. I was enjoying the peace of alone; I was also expecting a visit from my friend John. I use the word ‘expect’ in the loosest sense, as you never really knew when to expect John, or what to expect of