Author Archives: Alan McCormick Writing

MESSAGE TO YOU Message 704 I think it’s imagining your hands that keeps me listening: fingers fair and tapered, palms smooth and dry, your sure confident grip sensitive yet subtly sensual. Your voice is a more obvious hook; it’s an … Continue reading →

JAZZ ROCK The cry of a trumpet: ‘I beseech you to go JAZZ’, it says and the spiky tail rocker transforms into a giant, pubic fuzz ball. ‘You is scrambling my brain in pussy weed, my horny friend,’ says the … Continue reading →

DEAL OR NO DEAL The problem with you Brenda is you – you’re your own worst enemy. It was comments like this that made Brenda feel a little mad. Not because she felt insulted or crazy, but because she didn’t … Continue reading →

REAL MUMMY The hospital canteen has been converted into a performance hall. There are still brown tea stains on the worn plastic tables – a pair of lurid yellow stockings on the frizz-perm gargoyle next to me; ladders too. Her … Continue reading →

                                                  MEET THE BUILDER Looming over me in my lounge, his barrelling chest and thick tanned arms … Continue reading →

* Click for Cliff Chapman’s brilliant reading of the story  youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rfgb0RwwVUA CHARLIE PARKER, NOT PARKER KNOLL I am lodging at Mrs Smart’s lime green fronted guesthouse situated on one of Worthing’s least promising streets. A seaside view is afforded, albeit … Continue reading →

Mercy! Imagine the Big O has his Fender Telecaster plugged in, the classic guitar lick lifts off to Pretty Woman. Sandra hears it and is that woman again, the confidence, the poise, the slim red dress caressing her hips, its … Continue reading →

  Each midnight, Trumpet Forsyth leans out of his sixth floor bedroom window and blows out his horn. The first notes are avant-garde and complicated, angry, like his guernica is inhabited by limbless limbo dancers and drowning hands. The next … Continue reading →