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Category: The Floating Harbour

Posted on December 23, 2019December 23, 2019

The Voice That Searched My Memories: extracts from The Floating Harbour

Now riddle it with chaos: muddied fury lit by mob-borne flame.

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Posted on December 22, 2019December 22, 2019

This Room, This City, This World: extracts from The Floating Harbour

“Change is the only thing. It’s the only thing there is.”

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Posted on December 21, 2019December 21, 2019

That Way, For Him, Adventure Lies: extracts from The Floating Harbour

The seagulls, too: they screech in semi-reliably recorded history.

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Posted on December 19, 2019

The Hunter Sits: extracts from The Floating Harbour

Such keen eyes, such keen resolve.

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Posted on December 19, 2019December 19, 2019

The River Keeps Me Company: extracts from The Floating Harbour

I watch her and she’s wistless as she weaves and waves again.

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Posted on October 13, 2019October 14, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 11 & Epilogue

The air’s electrically-lit between each of the eight trees – their roots breaking the grey and moss-green, late-night, cobbled surface.

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Posted on October 6, 2019October 6, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 10

Such sudden change; a moment of momentum.

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Posted on September 29, 2019September 29, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 9

If I walk over the water and across the road, I’ll be merged with the final paragraphs.

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Posted on September 22, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 8

Eighteen years and a day since they held hands – one twelve, one eight, one six, one twenty-five – and were bought, and were sold.

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Posted on September 15, 2019September 30, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 7

Chaos to get into.

The tattered tethers of the known to leave behind.

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Posted on September 8, 2019September 8, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 6

The life, suspended, lives nonetheless inside, its mind in the past, its present; my mind in the present, my past.

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Posted on September 1, 2019September 1, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 5

There are clouds, in flux from grey to white, in the blue that the grassed hill climbs into, some walls of stone and little paths mark it, near the trees, for settlement.

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Posted on August 24, 2019August 24, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 4

“You’re a… spirit. Or a stroke…”

“Or a girl.”

“Or a Cheshire Cat.”

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Posted on August 18, 2019August 18, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 3

An accordion and a clarinet once danced together before a set of drums, and the aural ghost of their exchange is frenzied as it floats around the café room.

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Posted on August 11, 2019August 11, 2019

The Floating Harbour: Chapter 2

The wind stabs among the players every couple of bars,
a forceful beat formed by the rustle of the trees.

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Author

William Altoft

William Altoft

Writer in and from (and consistently on) Bristol.

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