IMAGES // FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE. ROLLOVER TO VIEW.

Beyond the Bottom image Image of a chair on top of a shed Image of a trodden coat Image of a sharp plant with spikes Image 1

CONTENT // A COLLECTION OF SENTENCES.

GEOCODES.

Home geocdoes:
Longitude: -1.49928
Latitude: 53.67274

Back of the Garden geocodes:
Longitude: -1.49717
Latitude: 53.67381

THE CHAIR.

Somehow - although nobody quite recalls just how - a chair ended up at the back of the garden. It lies there on it's side, it's distinct lack of use blatantly depressing. It appears as though it's been thrown haphazardly, like somebody would do with a car that's not longer fit for it's designed purpose. The way it lies, uncomfortably at the top of a shed, you can only think one thing:

It would have been easier to throw it away.

SHARP

It's almost as if this place doesn't want you to be here. You're getting nipped from all sides from all different kinds of sharp flowers. The floor is uneven and it hurts your feet, even when you're in trainers. It's difficult to breathe. It's difficult to move.

This place doesn't want me to be here. I know it.

NEGLECTED

"I've never touched it" he says with a grin as wide as his face. "I daren't. If I do, I know I'll have to sort it out, so I'll just go on neglecting it and pretending it isn't there" His face tightens. "That would be one extreme piece of gardening."

BEYOND THE BOTTOM.

At the bottom of the garden, there is a shed. People take one glance, and think that's it. There's nothing else after that. That it ends there. But it doesn't. There's an extra space, neglected by everybody and forgotten by everything apart from the turn of the season. In the end, nature took over the physical objects. Like a jungle of forgotten objects. A collection of nothing.

On this website you'll find a collection of extremely short stories about my experiences in the back of the garden. Most are based around everyday objects that just happen to have found themselves all the way to the back of the garden. Nobody remembers how they got there, who put them there, or even when.

THE BED WITHOUT A BED.

It's strange to think that someone once slept on this rusting frame. Not directly onto it of course, but somewhere in time, it used to be in a house. There's no evidence left of such purpose, and it now lies at the bottom of the garden like the ornament nobody wanted.

It now blends perfectly into the scenery, and almost looks like a natural part of it. That metal piece of shrubbery.

THOUGHTS.

Dark. Dingy. Scary. Unreal. Not happening. Green. Leafy. Strange. Out of this world. But in this world. A strange mix of both. Forgotten. Neglected. Unloved. Uncared for. The back of the bottom. The end of the line. The bit past the line that nobody knew existed. That easter egg. These are thoughts that could be applied to almost anything. Today though, they have context.

THE COAT.

When you first enter this neglected, hidden space, you'll stand on a coat. It's be worn by the years, but it still remains surprisingly preserved, almost as if the garden had taken it under it's wing because nobody else wanted it. Nobody has a clue where it came from, or even when it appeared. It's just there. Like a worn, out-of-date eyesore of a building, it's just there. Never to be moved.

Even the company that created it doesn't exist anymore. There is no defining features, or anything attached to it that might suggest that it once had a home. Once had someone to call it theirs. It lies there, crushed flat by an oppressive space of nothing.

AN UNRECOGNISABLE PLACE.

You know, you wouldn't think you were at the bottom of a garden. As soon as you fight past the first greenery and it drops slowly to the ground behind you, you're enclosed. Enclosed in your own little piece of jungle, but this isn't like you'd imagine any jungle in your dreams to be. Smelly, dank, and dark, it's hard to even comprehend that this is England, never mind my own back garden.

It's awfully neglected. So much so, it's impossible to even see any potential in it. There's just no room for anything. It would be too much hard work to clean it out, but then what would you do anyway? It would just be a cavernous hole behind the garden, and still nobody would notice it.

Either way, nobody cares.