my dreams tonight are cold, a forgetful haze of ice and snow, a blur of grey and white. by the time i wake up, i'm chilled right through. 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. … Continue reading beauty + dreams + exceptional
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
flames flicker in the fireplace, slow to start - paper is quick to ignite, but there's no staying power. there's just lots of potential. by the hearth, a cat curls up, warming its paws on rough-hewn stone flooring. domesticated for now, and back to wild mischief soon. (and you, under the sunlight, with… Continue reading wild + domesticated + soil
solidly sheltered, inside, as the wind whistles through the window-frame. against a backdrop of dark walls, a wisp of steam floats up. the tea is well-brewed this time, and feels like being content. inside, the fireplace crackles, emitting a faint scent of burnt sugar. the blanket over the back of the couch is… Continue reading shelter + contentment + natty
icicles hang from the branches, arching them down, stooped and slowly aged. the trees stand close, tall and hiding a multitude of secrets in earth. a final tree is selected, photographed and left to stand alone.
early morning haze temporarily blocks my vision. there's a soft layer of ice over my surroundings, stuck there with sleep. through the windows the horizon is distorted. condensation runs down the glass, helped by the sun as it's rising, shining weak heat. the world outside is blurred, a mess of lines and colour.… Continue reading vision + temporary
nights are the worst in winter, when the snow whirls around the building. the air is clean, fresh, hurts to breathe. just a drop of perfume is necessity.
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)
the coffeepot stands on the kitchen bench, untouched for several months. it's been ignored in favour of a line of teapots, separate pots for different varieties, a routine carving itself out over time. two cups of energizing in the early morning, the second of which is poured into a travel cup; one of plain black… Continue reading of thirst
Flash Fiction July, 30 There's a forest tucked away on the outskirts of the city. She doesn't go there often; only in winter, when it frosts over and she has to wear thick-soled hiking boots lined with extra socks and haphazardly-stitched in knitted linings. She pretends it's for the sheer beauty of the place, but it's… Continue reading In Wonderland