Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
It could have been a scene played out on the Serengeti plains. A predator stealthily utilising its ecosystem’s arid grasses and flora to mask their slow and steady approach toward unsuspecting prey. Becoming aware of its quarry around 20 metres away, the predator swiftly determining a strategy of attack. There was no swiftness in the... Continue Reading →
“Don't leave me this way. I can’t survive, can’t stay alive, without your love. Don’t leave me this way.” Those sentiments from an opening chorus of a Communards refrain are often communicated by my beagle Bella’s sad sideways glances when about to be left home alone. Yours truly's parting assurances of “I’ll not be long!”... Continue Reading →
Scene - At the park’s periphery, a middle-aged man and his dog engage on a frenetic walk. The pair circumnavigate tree trunks with the nimbleness of a Lionel Messi dribble, a waltzing skillset of Anton du Beke, along with the collision avoidance wherewithal of fighter pilot Brad Bootavich. Cause of this improvised dance routine was... Continue Reading →
It was an early dog walk this morning. My needy beagle/alarm clock Bella deciding a 6.40am stroll would be a splendid way to celebrate the dawning of 7th August 2026. This previous start not so much a case of the early bird catching the worm, more the early dog walker gets to pick up poop... Continue Reading →
“Turned Out Arid Again, Mother!” by Gary Strachan Today started like every day, with the walk. A dishevelled man with three score years of broken dreams emerged from a bedraggled duvet. Standing up he adjusted his boxer shorts which feel like they’ve been screwed on by a spanner. Stretching melodramatically, he adds to the... Continue Reading →
I’ve an unerring urge to use the word expedient within today’s narrative. My motive not to rage bait the Never Use Expedient In Prose Association (NUEPA), although to be honest, if that had been the reason, those stuffy bastards have had it coming for a while! My decision to utilise the noun (or adjective depending... Continue Reading →
As highlighted in my blog The Beagle With The Seagull, I recently re-homed a beagle hound. Six weeks of providing shelter, poop picking, feeding, and walking the capricious hound have taught me a valuable lesson… I should have rehomed a budgie!... Only kidding, I would not swap Bella for the world. Unless of course the... Continue Reading →
A few weeks back, some sixty-six million years after dinosaurs became extinct and slightly before yours truly commenced penning this narrative, I rehomed a dog. The hound in question a four your old beagle who, for the purposes of the narrative (and because it’s her name), I shall call Bella. With details of the rehoming... Continue Reading →
Last Thursday, endeavouring to address a recent indifference towards and break from writing, I participated in a writers 'Open Mic' evening in Harrogate. This clambake afforded eleven fellow authors and myself opportunity to showcase our literary wares. The event offering its audience a tempting mix of poetry, thought provoking and irreverent fiction, along with comedic... Continue Reading →