Think Magnus Mills mashed with the League of Gentlemen with a jolt of Mark E. Smithery for grit, and you’re nearly there.
Though many of his stories are shorter than a Napalm Death snarl, these precision-engineered slivers of fiction leave you with the dying chords of a symphony. They are about the small people, the tiny TARDIS folk with cathedrals inside them, creeping by unnoticed. These tales will have you laughing like at a Tommy Cooper video though there’s something hideous gnawing at the door to get in. Be careful, a spoonful weighs a ton.
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