A Conduit: Second Tattersby



A Conduit


On this day when fire could not be thought of

A sooty pall stains stucco shaded by the mantelpiece

But under this

Winks a brilliant blue and does persistently

…this Morse Code going on since yesterday

Refusing glances dart away

And none feels safe to read the message

Three men chew and meet each other’s eyes

‘So,’ the guest begins, and drains his teacup.

‘Can this be a sort of ghostly nova? Why have I dreamed it

all night long? Ever since the rains…and I don’t care figs

for aeroplanes. I loathe the infernal machines.’

The host says…



More of this piece on Tattersby page:

Swallowtail (excerpt)


Copyright 2017 Stephanie Foster


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