season + easter + unravel

summer has shifted into cool autumn, turning chilly and stormy in the blink of an eye, just minutes from steady sunshine.   easter arrives with dull grey clouds and sheeting rain battering the roof. looks like a good day to stay indoors with books and coffee.   thin foil wrappings are unravelled by deft fingers… Continue reading season + easter + unravel


NaPoWriMo 26 (stolen clouds)

remove the clouds from the sky. turn them into gold then bring them back to me. (if it's what you want) you're too whimsical sometimes. so i climb, change my mind a dozen times. attempt to collect the clouds - they slip, sandlike through my fingers. suppose they fell to earth: would they shatter -… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 26 (stolen clouds)

NaPoWriMo 24 (borrowed/disappointment)

borrowed confidence: this is what you can do. this is what you were meant to do. (this loan has no expiry date.) take the loan and run with it. run, as far and fast as you can. (don't stop to risk a double-think; don't pause long enough to disappoint your creditor) blind faith is laid… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 24 (borrowed/disappointment)

NaPoWriMo 22 (portents)

eyes, drawn into being: predicting, liberating, wise - all-knowing. they're a secret you want to decipher. they're a million stories going untold. lips, sketched from imagination. coax a story that they're reluctant to tell. (watch for the lipstick days. these are the ones when the story means nothing.) dare this prophetess to give you a… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 22 (portents)

NaPoWriMo 21 (locked)

test the gate: locked. more than a simple lock-and-key, you have to answer three puzzles. one: you must create a myth. write it into earth on a fog-covered night. make it a story none has ever heard. two: replace your world with a week of inversions. begin this when the sky is at its reddest,… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 21 (locked)

NaPoWriMo 18 (breath)

take the breath from my lungs. give me charcoal in its place and i'll collect stardust. inhale chaos - breathe out freedom. (tastes like ash; cold lips desperately trying to oxygenate) sticking in the throat - drawn in, conjured from nowhere. choke gently, coughing lightly - tastes like dust. let me take the breath from… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 18 (breath)

NaPoWriMo 14 (suitcase)

lay down the suitcase - time to pack up again. pack away all your ghosts; stuff your demons into the side pockets. label it with all your masks. (it's all the things you can't outrun) take the bag and go - pay any extra costs. (you may only offload one per city) and keep going.… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 14 (suitcase)

NaPoWriMo 9 (green)

she palms the stack of green paper, freshly spit out of the ATM. counts it once, twice - all as should be and returns to the office. (it doesn't feel as heavy in her bag  as expected) she gets back and works longer days - one hour, two hours. it makes no difference to her.… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 9 (green)