Honey, I lost the car

I did the same with a book of my nephew’s poetry the other day. Not as crucial I admit but disconcerting nevertheless.

Peter Coleborn

A few hours chin-wagging over beer and food in a Birmingham city centre pub, with a couple of good friends, what better way to spend a Saturday afternoon? I gave James Brogden a copy of his soon-to-be published collection Evocations (coming soon from The Alchemy Press) and he was very pleased with the book. We talked about a possible new anthology for 2016 (more details later). Otherwise the topics of conversation were, mostly, inconsequential. But that’s fine – one can’t save the world every time one meets.

I drove into Birmingham from the south, along the A38, aiming to park somewhere in the Brindley Place area. Now, I lived in Birmingham for 20-odd years. I thought I knew the area well enough. Turns out, I didn’t and I was confused further by the new build in the that area — and all those bloody road closures due to them tearing…

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