God Rest Ye, Merry Gentleman..

The ram lowers its head and charges.
Pieces of sheep soar majestically into the air as I gun the motor, throw back my head and roar my defiance. The whey faced shepherd stares, horrified as the legless trunk loops into the passenger seat, the satanic yellow eyes still open, the image of the onrushing Bentley insignia [...]

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The Lowering Sky

The Bentley purrs through the Yorkshire Dales, devouring the miles, closer and closer to what? Closure?
The anger burns brightly these last thirty years, driving me onwards. Slowing down to negotiate the hump back bridge, scattering sheep across the moor. The lowering sky, the stone chapel. a fine drizzle descending on the heads of this handful [...]

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Half Cocked in Hampshire

Wild eyed and raging, forcing something called a Nissan into the ditch as I roared through Fleet was the most notable achievement of a depressingly damp days shooting with the Major. The occupants cheerfully waved, the fingers spread into an unlikely V, in recognition of the expensive roar of the Bentley’s 4.5 litre engine as [...]

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