there's a new mirror on the wall. when i look, it has a ghoulish reflection in the glass, past me. the image appears stuck. i bought it from an antique shop. the owner was glad to see it go. she took my money and said nothing about surprises. i was not prepared for mischief… Continue reading ghoulish + prepare + surprise
there's no beauty to be found in these dreams, cold as they are. all there is, is an exceptional sight: the horizon is all blank. there's waking, and the horizon is bleak, black as far as the eye can see. it's a jarring contrast to before's all-white landscape.
tame flowers sit in glass and ceramic vessels, a demure display. they're simply arranged, logical order of height to best advantage. they sit for five days before being whisked away and swiftly replaced.
the museum is silent, thin groups of people focused on stories. there's something quiet in the air itself. people trickle through the exhibits, each clasping some relevant bit of literature. there's still so much to see and take in. they're surrounded by history, watching as it unfolds in solemn halls, unfurls on compact… Continue reading surrounded + history + focused
there's crumbs on the bench a thin-framed tray cooling fresh cookies from the stove. a swipe of a damp sponge clears away the crumbs, leaving clean. the cookies go cold left out too long and only just staying soft. they are still good, with a subtle tang of orange when bitten. someone ventures… Continue reading crumb + cold + playful
water drops gather on the window, spilling down, forming countless shapes. condensation forms inside, sympathy heart traced in, matching the shapes. the window's open, now, and the glass clears. the heart fades, looks half-broken.
she's waiting by the computer, pacing, watchful, eyes trained on the screen. the email inbox, empty, stays clear - still nothing new comes in. she anticipates something, though she is unsure what she's looking for. under her feet, the floor is cold. an error pops up: blocked. message blocked, same as all the tries… Continue reading anticipate + explosion + blocked
the morning is dark, cotton-candy fog hanging over the city. through the fog, lights glow. well and truly entranced, i inhale the sweet air. someone is burning pine. as i get in the car, i wish you were here.
there's a thorn on the rose you left in a vase. it's as sharp as it looks. jabbed my finger on the prickle trimming the stem. new water, and done. there's a card i have yet to read. maybe later - i hope you will stay.
freshly-boiled water swirls into the teacup, heating the thin porcelain from the first teaspoon. the water clouds over with tea releasing a faint scent into the air above. on the tray in front, a plate of biscuits await. later, the morning has warmed and the tea is forgotten, left to go stone-cold amidst the busyness… Continue reading tea-time