leaving home in dark oh-six-hundred red, alarm clock glowing spitefully. early spring and leaves have yet to fall: still growing back in from winter. crisp leaves on the path: dilemma: which will crunch the most under my boots?
Flash Fiction July, 1. I've learnt to tell his transgressions by the flowers that are delivered to me. Every time it happens, they're delivered without fail, on a Wednesday morning. Somehow, the courier always manages to arrive just as I'm rinsing out my breakfast dishes and collecting my gym things together. I suppose he's specified… Continue reading Windowsill Garden
once, i built a shelf. it was a wonky, shoddy-looking thing, hanging crookedly from the wall, haphazardly suspended by a combination of metal pieces and some thin rope harness. i recognized this even as i admired my handiwork, this first little achievement. the first time i placed an item on it, it toppled dangerously, swaying… Continue reading memory shelf (400)
on my birthday, you bought me a bracelet. linked to it was one charm, the kind of clasp that you can fasten and unfasten yourself. "add what you like to it," you said, opening up jewellery and fashion sites and going to the charms section. it struck me as patronising even then, like you thought… Continue reading beneath the treasure
don't you know i burn my bridges?
after i left it was five days before i thrived, breaking thoughts apart. ----- thriving: five months on, free of you - but you'll never be quite free of me. ----- five months on and i'm thriving, learning the fine art of forgetting you. ----- five years on and i'm thriving without you, just as… Continue reading thriving, times five
You are the mystery. Sometimes I feel you leaving, slipping through my fingers - other times I feel as though you are pulling me closer, not willing to let go. So I cling because it's easier - until the day comes that the mystery is gone, but I'm skeptical of that happening.