Brutalism

I love Brutalist Architecture. I love it. I love the size and the shape and the colours (or lack of colours) of it. I feel strongly about it. To me, it is anything but brutal. It is sublime and sculptural, and makes me feel immediately fascinated yet humbled whenever I see it. As an appreciator…

Nevil and Alf-Part One

To the rest of the world, the leafy  nursing home Sunset Oaks was a picture of calm repose. At 3.26 am even the night staff were asleep, and but for the occasional thrum of the boiler room all was silent. Even the keenest of ears would have missed the jazz music escaping from the soundproofed mahogany door…

Lifelong Loves

I always write about familiar, often achingly familiar subjects. So this one has proved a challenge. I have begun asking people for writing requests, with complete freedom of choice, and the latest is Robin Hood’s Bay. I have never been there, but thanks to my Uncle Pete who is approaching awesome  nonagenarian status, I now…

Pristine

I know there  would be bills. Servicing. Not to mention maiming and death. Potentially. Oh, but it was so, so utterly cool. Pristine. Maybe on its maiden ride. I must have ridden in a past life, because If chrome could beckon, it would have. It did. Leaving me breathless. Watching. Mute. © Tom Tide 2016

Samson

The guard palmed him something as he stepped down to the melting  asphalt. Apart from the firm handshake, all he’d said was ‘Go to The Owl. You look like a goddam bum’, before stepping back up in to the bus. Any passers by would have seen a very tall, sun-marked man in a suit three sizes…