Tag Archives: writing

Mail Art Postcard. No. 4539…

But first… Dulltown, UK: Today’s imagined sound is that of all the components of a rock drum kit being thrown, one at a time, down some ancient marble steps in a reverberant cathedral. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It’s a mail art postcard! A … Continue reading

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Some snatches of overheard and misheard cafe conversation…

But first… Dulltown, UK: Today’s quotation is from Vladimir Nabokov‘s 1937-40 novel Despair: And those pines facing me, with their bark resembling reddish snakeskin drawn on tight, and their green fur which the wind was stroking the wrong way; and … Continue reading

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Yes, yes, it’s all about money!…

But first… Dulltown, UK: Today’s quotation is from Vladimir Nabokov’s 1940 short story Solus Rex: On the day of the outing the weather was cold and restless, a nacreous sky skimmed overhead, the sallow bushes curtseyed in the ravines, the … Continue reading

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Mail Art Postcard No. 4697…

But first… Dulltown, UK: Today’s quotation is from Vladimir Nabokov’s 1940 short story Solus Rex (originally in Russian): Various objects hung at random on the blueish walls: a clock (it had already tattled about its presence), a medicine cabinet, an … Continue reading

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Connected up in a railway cloakroom…

But first… Dulltown, UK: Today’s doubled up simile is: as nice as two pies. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Wha!… It’s Supernatural Stories No. 75 – and for just two-shillings-and-sixpence, old money. It is also strange, weird, and it promises to be eerie too. … Continue reading

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It’s Avenger Trek again…

But first… Dulltown, UK: Today’s quotation is from Vladimir Nabokov’s short story Ultimate Thule (1940): “You see,” answered Falter, “in Indochina, at the lottery drawings, the numbers are extracted by a monkey. I happen to be that monkey. Another metaphor: … Continue reading

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David is popping up in Dulltown…

But first… Dulltown, UK: Today’s quotation is from Vladimir Nabokov’s short story Ultima Thule of 1940: One must picture this hotel, tucked up in the feathered armpit of a hill overgrown with mimosa, and the little lane, not fully built … Continue reading

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