bottom wibbles
a rising mist
The Goodly Mist
A Workingblog for Rob Sherman
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⚞ prose?

What A Horrible Nightmare

I have just woken from it in the middle of the day. It conducts a scorched earth policy, destroying every legend that I ever loved. It begins simply enough, in the plains around Troy, where Achilles licks dew from his cold shield. His face appears above this little parapet, and his face is that of […]

Horrible Things That Could Befall Any Character

1.   At a party, the character plays a trick on an associate of his, a woman who he only knows through a friend who performs poetry in her spare time. It is a fancy dress party, and he is dressed as a dentist. He is standing on the other side of the kitchen, speaking to […]


Panel detail from the Sutton Hoo helmet. I can hear gulls, or rocks, or one or five machine-guns, or the breathing of twelve men, or one hundred. I am souped, a bowl for this idiot’s head. There is a last clutch of aftershave about his hair, and the hooting noise of sweat. It irritates me, […]

You Are Special

While you have a bowl to put yourself in, there is a uniqueness that nobody else recognizes. Your head is an iceberg’s hat, a deeper-than-thought dwelling for you to place parts of yourself that require an intimate knowledge of every sniffed nose you have ever had. There is a thrift of understanding that causes you […]

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