Robert Nisbet

#69 November 2018, 2018

The Herb Garden by Robert Nisbet

Tarragon, rosemary, fennel and thyme. Barely a herb garden, more a collection of herbs in pots, ranged in her small back yard. Tarragon, rosemary, fennel and thyme. She dwelt on the scents and the sweetness. Rosemary, that’s for remembrance. But no-one had died. He’d been for years in Spain, but there were no calls, no

#67 May 2018, 2018

Old Acquaintance by Robert Nisbet

The village social, New Year’s Eve, and he’s back from Cardiff, back in the new routine, the old routine he’s hankered for. At ten to twelve, the Okey-Cokey. You put your left leg in, your left leg out, and there she is (hey, they’re thirty now) across the circle, receding, receding, plunging towards him, now

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