she's watchful of the night sky, waiting for it to arrive before she slips out under a cloak of her own making. outside, the city hums, content with the work from the rest of the day, and people are few and far between. tonight she's tempted to take a glass to the roof, fill it… Continue reading by nightlight (400)
the city is indecisive tonight. late-evening sunlight glitters weakly off a myriad of glass, a maze of cars and buildings and filters through thin lace curtains. in the not-so far-off distance, there's a series of factories and houses all burning fires. smoke rises, hangs heavy and congested in the air, curls into the buildings themselves… Continue reading winter haze (400)
There's a house-cafe on the street corner. It's incongruously placed in the middle of the city, where you expect to find tall office buildings and functional apartment blocks - not so much a two-storey house with a front yard and parking space. In front, in the yard is a mini-cart. It's not unlike a street cart,… Continue reading Vignette (4)
Flash Fiction July, 17 The city skyline takes a while to arise from the horizon; it always does, just as I've driven over the last bridge to my destination. Every time, I'm struck by how it appears to be a magic trick: one minute it isn't there, and the next minute it is, just as… Continue reading Outlined
on the third saturday of every second month, i have a routine. i arise at dawn, prepare from scratch dough for bread. while i count the petals of the flowers i ordered online, the dough sits in a hot water cupboard and rises, enough for baking. all of this is done in silence, the only… Continue reading meandering (400)
first apartment, buy a plant, make a solemn vow to nurture it, perfect. city girl pretends to commune with nature, brings a cactus back home. too busy living for perfection, there's no time: put under sun; go.
walking through the city: it's six a.m. on a chill winter day. fog abounds, i can't see more than thirty metres down the road. isolated - it's a public holiday. the cold brushes over me ignoring my fashionable jacket. the sky remains violet as one car swooshes past. gone, into the fog. disappearing in a… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 20 (fog)