Tales From The UniversE

Tales From The UniversE

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Tales From The UniversE
Tales From The UniversE
Exclusive story: The Curve of the Country; Vegas is Vegas, babY - my latest TOME; Poem: Literature; Daniele Baldelli; Make this post ALL FREE; Tales From The UniversE 55 - newsletter from meadowland

Exclusive story: The Curve of the Country; Vegas is Vegas, babY - my latest TOME; Poem: Literature; Daniele Baldelli; Make this post ALL FREE; Tales From The UniversE 55 - newsletter from meadowland

An arcadia of imagination

JAMIE JACKSON's avatar
JAMIE JACKSON
Mar 20, 2024
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Tales From The UniversE
Tales From The UniversE
Exclusive story: The Curve of the Country; Vegas is Vegas, babY - my latest TOME; Poem: Literature; Daniele Baldelli; Make this post ALL FREE; Tales From The UniversE 55 - newsletter from meadowland
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There is a sun only for you. Pic: Scott Fletcher

Welcome - and thanks to all my new and cool as cool non-paying and paying subscribers. Any comments, love, let me know in the bit at the end please.

Purchase an annual subscription for £50 (10% cheaper than monthly) and receive Vegas is Vegas, babY, a free autographed copy of my first novel, Night Time Cool, plus a PDF of my second novel, Adventures in LovE. Or take a month for £4.99 and receive the latter all bar the signed book.


1. Vegas is Vegas, babY

My latest book is NOW on my substack - in four parts:

Manchester United's summer 2023 tour of New York, New Jersey, San Diego, Houston, San Diego, Las Vegas penned my way.

The first part is FREE; the rest the £4.99 a-month subscription for which you receive everything else paid for on here. Second part HERE. Third part HERE

In LA the light goes vivid. Cover: Paradisio Publishing. Pic: Paul Hirst
Cruising in from San Diego to Las V. Cover: Paradisio Publishing

2. Short Story

The Curve of the Country

The farmhouse kitchen went dark. Lights strobed. Hearts and souls flickered. Cheers. The music mesmeric and terrifying. Doom and joy.

Revellers getting off the way they wanted to get off. She got mind blown her way. Came up in grassland, the sun a pulsar, the day a cascade of cascades.

Aural echoes and horses far off and she lay in a meadow where bracken and heather was burnt tan and rust and ochre and she jumped through existence and fell aslumber where dreams meet where imagination always waits and she flitted elsewhere to be in gold light and bass and night where the revellers hit crescendo and this was the kitchen of the farmhouse again the place vaulting away from earth and she was dancing by the DJ who danced also and was a young girl of 14 or 15 and she said, ‘what’s your name?’ and the DJ smiled as if her mother and said, ‘Sheena, what’s yours?’

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