Cherry

Gland I. Ely

Mucking around with new prose ideas - set in the future, an adventure-travel writer reports back on his first week in England. First prose I've posted on here in many years...

Weekend Party People

Sweet child in time I watch you drowning in the subtle poisons of your generation, trapped in your desperate dance to paradise.

Only Human

Do I regret having a baby young? Well, it’s complicated isn’t it? Never as cut n dried as that.

Cinquain #9

Old man fine lines of age threading their way around corners of his eyes, break into a smile

Cinquain #8

Children voices running melodies, like dancing beacons, just before night gives way to day.

Cinquain #7

Calm sea curves in white frill, as gentle, lazy waves dash against each other, playing catch me.

THE CHRONICLES OF MERTH - MER'S DAY OUT CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I sat down on the ground because my feet hurt. Sarafina stayed standing, but after a while, she too, sat down next to me. "What are we going to do?" I asked.
Cherry

Blow

Room scattered with the things, that every days are made of. Rotting food from days ago. Stale curls of crisps. Her body is a centerpiece. Its skin iced, diced, puffed.

RED SKATE CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Charlie and I both went running to Barker's cell. We were met with the horrible sight of Barker dangling from the ceiling; rope around his neck.

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