Oliver Shrouder

Creative Writing

The Monkey

Two men and a monkey sat between them, blinking up but never making noise, both there and not there, never seen (by others) until it leaps out screeching when their hands or their lips touch screeching when they cross each street corner screeching in every public night screeching when a row of men saunter, ten…

Creative Writing, Venue

Puddle Jumping

A month with no colour, no snow, a thick puffer jacket pulled over two red ears against a thudding Arctic bite; the boy treads on, warm and shuffling  up the garden path happy simply for the freedom  of the winds. The world is his: he sees no fence but the stretch of grass that coils…

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