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Things Left Behind
What will be left when you die? Bones, of course. Blackening skin. A new home for hundreds of bugs and their offspring. A jar of ashes, if that's the...
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- 588 reads
Getting by for Summer
Na m e ? Cora Age ? 47 P l ace o f bi rt h ? Defiance, OH Re s ide n ce ? Black Clapboard 2-room Occ up a t i on? Dental nurse A pp ea r a n ce ?...
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- 649 reads
Jack Mutant - Which Way Is Down (2)
There was no doubt he felt more grown-up as he approached his new school, Sandpools Academy; locals dropped the d and it was pronounced simply as...
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- 1511 reads
Reminders
Everyone needs reminders. Because it is equal to human's need like affections. And reminders ARE affections. Sometimes, reminders look harsh on some...
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- 630 reads
Be true to your heart
Be true to your heart. How true? Because there will be the times when you can't deny your heart anymore but to agree. Lies after lies, because of the...
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- 895 reads
It Ends
Driving on the road Towards the port Then a ship across the sea There is a displaced stone On that road somewhere A chained hound howling To the...
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- 356 reads
Regressed
Arrogant, cocky, over-confident were a few of the labels that could, and were, levelled at Greg Curtis, a 38 year-old fork-lift truck driver at a...
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- 1265 reads
The Kiss
There are several young people in the art gallery sketching copies of the grand masters’ works but you notice her in particular because she is...
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- 15 comments
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- 9241 reads
The Musings of the Mind
There are parts within our grown up selves that have refused to grow up with us and with time; or maybe they are unevolved, archaic insticts of times...
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- 394 reads
When She Sang
First, she sang me the song of mornings, giving the sun a tune to rise to. Weaving the words of the day around the early hours as the trees, hills and the day grew out of the morning mists. Then she sang us a love song, using up a few hours of the morning as each verse wrapped itself around us while we lay together, joined in the chorus of skin against skin.
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- 885 reads