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Shreds of Gorak: 1-10: Short reads of Gorak
Shreds of Gorak: 1-10: Short reads of Gorak
Shreds of Gorak: 1-10: Short reads of Gorak
Ebook25 pages16 minutes

Shreds of Gorak: 1-10: Short reads of Gorak

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Memoir, anecdote and meaningful other: Shreds 1-10


First Dates: An honest account of my adolescent 'relationships' with the models in mail-order catalogues.
Lamb 197: A lost Cumbrian lamb re-unites with its mother, leading to realisations about the relationship I have with my own.
Listen to the Man: Myself and a fellow stoner board a pedalo and take to the sea. Ignoring the advice of the man hiring them out, we head past the buoys and get taken out by the tide.
The Fabricheads: Dark imaginations of a town (in Wales) where trepanning is practiced, leading to improved intellectual function and enlightenment for its residents.
Falling Down, Granola and the Water Bowl: After a hard day's work, I am confronted with mounting bills and suffer a cartoon mini-breakdown.
He Played Eight: Mortifying infant embarrassment when forced to sing in class.
Spit in Me Hat: Lunchtime observations: as I sit on a mound of rubble on an abandoned traveller's site, I question negative perceptions of them.
Pretty Things: In a refuge I stayed in as a child, I sit and watch three women tattoo each other's hands using a biro and heated compass point. Another woman enters, and I become transfixed by her.
The Queue: While waiting to cash a cheque, I imagine those in the queue as a gang committing a bank job.
Dear Mr Hales: A sarcastic letter to the BBC regarding non-payment of my TV license.

PublisherLemmy Gorak
Release dateJul 22, 2021
Shreds of Gorak: 1-10: Short reads of Gorak

Lemmy Gorak

After a short time spent sleeping on London's Circle Line, as a child I toured the capital, staying in a succession of refuges, tents and narrowboats. Although traumatic, it was a time rich with experience and freedoms most don't enjoy. Left to create my own life-map, I relied on nothing but hard-wired survival skills to get me through the many schools I attended, leaving with an O Level in Art and a handful of cardboard Sports Day medals. Picking up a guitar - along with recreational drugs - I found therapy through an anarchic yet unsustainable lifestyle. After numerous shitty jobs and spells of unemployment, I cleaned up my act (a bit) and rediscovered a child-like wonder with the natural world - a connection that has ultimately been my saviour. Seduced by mountains, I headed for the wilds of Cumbria, where with a Blues Harp I busked and played in local bars, before a virus with a household name had its way and a shocking end of an unhealthy relationship left me facing homelessness. I love to amuse myself and make sense of things, and have always kept a diary and scribbled on the back of envelopes; caught in the flow. Now with head and heart aligned, I write in earnest, most mornings while it's still dark.

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