‘Have you the paper saved for me there, I sent that little fucker of mine down for it earlier and as usual his head was in the clouds, and he came back with a bottle of Lucozade and a lion bar. The hangover cure no doubt, he is the selfish one that one’. Joe discarded …
Her eyes shed despair so tired and weak Though a soft satin touch caresses her cheek She faithfully, tearfully hugs to her breast A vacant faced bundle of innocence blessed Tiny heart beating body and soul Love given so freely taking its toll. Trace that young life so perfectly formed Her young slender body keeping …
The gate could barely cope with the weight laid down on its hinges from Marge our sturdy boisterous neighbour. You could never quite tell how the rusted iron did it, but it did – every Thursday like clockwork. The sun would catch her on the side of her cheek, and she would squint up her …
My Mother met my Dad on her wedding day. She was head over heels in love with his picture. Her own Mother had slid it under her nose one day out of the blue and she caught sight of the jet black hair and mercurial smile. She said yes to his picture for the rest …
Anthony sat looking at a heavy drizzle of rain through the large glass window at the forefront of “Pebbles” café. He was in a limbo of emotion, detached from this wintry scene. It was as if he was suspended between two perfectly balanced tendencies, not knowing whether to mourn or to rejoice. It was for …
The buzzing sound of the passing cars on the road were a comfort to her. She observed in a distracted way that it provided something she could focus on. It grounded her. She tuned in and out in a way that felt soothing and was able to slink in and out like someone coming slowly …
It’s the same every morning. I wake up and I ask myself one question. Is today going to be the day that I decide to speak again? I search my mind momentarily and always end up shaking my head and saying no, not today. When I made the decision back then not to speak, it …
Here in the dark, we three My Father, myself and the baby We are witnessing the fields after the storm from our living room window All is clean, blank and still With the lights gone out Everything is simple and slow Single minded in our endeavours He is resurrecting an old torch I am finding …
Winnie-the-walk is the first talker and Molly-the-talk is the third. They are bitter enemies. Their dear old friend ‘Old-Mary’ has recently passed away and her dear friends are discussing her passing. They are all talking about calling to her home to pay their respects where she is laid out before funeral. Winnie-the-walk (talker 1) : …
The glistening of each blade held captive, Sways in the sunlight. Dazzling the watchful naked eye, Open to its sparkle and allure, That stops to observe this marde gras. In this moment, the world haults. Leaving only freedom, to observe, To breathe in all that can be achieved. Laid bare as it is, draped in …