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Talk to Me, Please
She longed to go outside and sit with her new tenant, Tom, but she restrained herself from doing so.
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and this is just one idea of heaven
I don’t feel the need to lie when she arches one eyebrow and says: “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
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The Crawl
Gaz has nabbed a road sign of a man digging a hole, Bilbo’s picked flowers but he won’t say why, and Matty’s filled his handbag with salt and pepper
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Vita
Over wire-rimmed glasses, Virginia Woolf peers down at the drawing, takes in the words, breathes in an imagined Argentinian starry sky.
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On Lovella Avenue
A pair of black cats. But unlike the squirrels, they were anticipating my arrival.
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God Meant Us To Fly
I scurried as fast as my feet could take me through the livin room, slidin on cool tiles and headed straight to my secret listenin spot cause I knew there ...
Greetings from the Fat Man in Postcards
It was love at first sight. They were both peering at the same framed card.
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Another Year
They didn’t hate Santa, they were just frustrated with the long, repetitive hours and needed someone to punish.
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Before he knew he was lost
He tried to pinpoint the moment that it began, the exact moment when he wasn’t sure why he was going, but it all felt too nebulous.
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Waterlogged
Normally, I ignored calls from numbers I didn’t recognise but twenty-two missed calls in the span of an hour was worrisome.
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The Flight of the Swallow
A flock of swallows has just flown overhead. This is their time of night, just as dusk is beginning to deepen.
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Hi
I’m not used to this kind of attention from men. I’ve only been a woman, noticeably so at least, for a year, after all.
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Kirabiti
She seems unaffected by the midges now, her light clothes flapping them away. It needles you, her comfort in surroundings that make you feel so out of place.
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The Woodcutter
The blossom’s winged petals flapped and flailed and stuck to the little bare legs and the new blue dress and that glossy hair, she winced. Stop, she wanted to shout. ...
Giants
They are your earliest memory. Beaked noses. Hair like clouds.
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I Made Myself a Needle
The sign was a few kilometres back, but I’d told myself I wouldn’t stop. That she isn’t there.
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Candle Matters
I drop my son on the floor and he shatters.
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The Littoral
Is it kidnapping when it’s your own children? I hope not.
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The Princess and the Moon
I often think about the moon. I wonder how I may sail to her.
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Hands
Taken aback, she forgot to respond. Her hand hung limply in his palm, until he dislodged it.
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