MasqueradeTabitha Potts You practice twenty kicks against the punchbag, sweat pouring into your eyes. Teeps, the high kicks, up to twenty. Usually used to gauge distance, so you can follow up with a side kick or some other form of attack. But they can be… Nov 11 19November 11, 2019Article at The Elixir Magazine
Short Fiction by Tabitha PottsShort Fiction by Tabitha Potts I was a foundling brat, rescued from the hedgerows where I lay with my beak open, screeching fit to wake the devil. I often think it very likely the first thing I ever saw was a bird in its nest. The people here are… Jul 24 19July 24, 2019Article at mironline.org
HAGSTONETabitha Potts The pebbles crunched beneath her feet. She was walking below the dunes, close to the sea’s edge. Seaweed lay around, flung into position by the advancing waves. Over towards the horizon she could see the revolving arms of the wind farm,… Dec 31 18December 31, 2018Article at The Elixir Magazine
The GiftShort Fiction by Tabitha Potts I had to get a gift for my wife (who is easily disappointed) and I had to get it by 6pm on a cold and rainy Tuesday in London. She demands from me a certain quality in my gifts: they cannot be simply a proof of… Oct 10 16October 10, 2016Article at mironline.org
