I will find you,” he whispered in my ear. “I promise. If I must endure two hundred years of purgatory, two hundred years without you – then that is my punishment, which I have earned...

One dictum I had learned on the battlefields of France in a far distant war: You cannot save the world, but you might save the man in front of you, if you work fast enough.

Some enterprising rabbit had dug its way under the stakes of my garden again. One voracious rabbit could eat a cabbage down to the roots, and from the looks of things, he’d brought friends. I...

Alive, and one. We are one, and while we love, death will never touch us. ‘The grave’s a fine and private place/ but none, I think, do there embrace.

If I die,” he whispered in the dark, “dinna follow me. The bairns will need ye. Stay for them. I can wait.