Jack Dace – Medium

Jack Dace

Jack Dace

Sachsenhausen

Wind whistling openly, solemnly. Hard to say if it made noise itself though it was there, each gust was almost palpable, they stung…

Oct 27, 2017

Sachsenhausen

Oct 27, 2017

Jack Dace

Ciggarette

He pulled out his old bone lighter and set ablaze a cigarette which he sucked on steadily, his head reclining slightly as he let the smoke…

Oct 25, 2017

Ciggarette

Oct 25, 2017

Jack Dace

The Town Friar.

There’s the quaint church – cobbled church, with its high haughty tower peaked with the coppered weathervane of the cross standing…

Jul 11, 2017

The Town Friar.

Jul 11, 2017

Jack Dace

Water.

Every single action is a result of every action you have ever made. As he sat in the dust and he hid his eyes from the sun and his skin in…

Jul 3, 2017

Water.

Jul 3, 2017

Jack Dace

The Pass-Around Dog.

Everybody knows the dog, with his lolling tongue and his matted grey coat, clumped up and curling. He’s bounding across the green on aged…

Jul 2, 2017

The Pass-Around Dog.

Jul 2, 2017

Jack Dace

Did you See the Time Go By?

Did you see the time go by?

Jul 2, 2017

Did you See the Time Go By?

Jul 2, 2017

Jack Dace

Old Salt.

He was the foreman on the docks, is the old barnacle in the town. Acrid pipe smoke embraces him and a sour vinegar smell sits in his…

Jun 30, 2017

Old Salt.

Jun 30, 2017

Jack Dace

Jack Dace

Writing, Poetry, Art. I write about things which make me sad. Please comment on anything you enjoy or are inspired by.

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