If the amber pool is the mirror to the soul, whose reflection glints?

Into the Moss

Piston

Clanging chimes of doom; not the patter of applause. Bags of cheese, baby.

Smashed

Made for the big screen, its pre-inhabited shells hum with detritus.

Backdrop

A burial mound, Wrexham awaits its sunrise. Golf carts overturned.

Upward

Jimstrumental time. Vuvuzela poised to blow. James made that bit, Ben.

Horn

Waking with a start, once when I flew with a boy. Ready breakfast bowl.

Murderers

Flamingos yammer, "the gargadillo is loose". Birthday cake blowtorch.

Chalets

Bad ammonia. Must be the asparagus. Wish there was a cream.

Hollandaise

Boredom is creeping into the kitchen, hoping I'm for the taking.

Mounds

Those shotgun blues fanned, no skip can dampen the rage. The animals know.

Frazzled

Comedy Fiction

Drama

Fiction

A sunken raft of weeds woven into a verdant morass of sound, song and story. Broadcast on London's Resonance FM every Friday, Into the Moss is a 14 minute drift through original music, soundscapes and liminal yarns.

Piston

Into the Moss

More episodes from "Into the Moss"

Smashed

Backdrop

Upward

Piston

Horn

Murderers

Chalets

Hollandaise

Mounds

Frazzled