Walking down the street, hand held by mum, My eyes shift to the right, and I see you. Standing in the doorway, cig in hand, Arm lifting, you wave. Standing in the street, I get stuck talking, The village gossips are asking if he’s dead yet. Walking down the street, towards me, An eye roll … Continue reading Memories
White hair, glasses and radiant smile,She sits. The black cat on her knee,Sleeping. The muted TV plays on in the background, The presenter's loud "180!" can still somehow be heard. A newspaper's pages are heard turning, Followed by the clearing of a voice. "Guess what", he says,With joy in his eyes. I love you.
It’s hollow now. Soulless. Nothing there but bones and headstones. So many years feeling worthless, but now they are worthless to me. And yet it does not feel like a win. It is heart-breaking to know of the pain they have caused. Through choice, or through ignorance. Acting saddened and disgraced that her last wishes … Continue reading What is it, to win?
You would think I’d have had enough. All of the assignments, the lectures, the stress. Yet, I have spent all day waiting for 5pm. Not for the rest or the break away from work, but for writing. The relief of knowing I no longer have restrictions placed on my writing to be academic, to be … Continue reading The Freedom of Truth
As a 'writer', I find inspiration in everyday life. My mind is constantly writing - looking for things I can borrow from. The earth, the universe, strangers, family, friends, loved ones... I find stories in most things, every day. I find myself narrating in my own mind, more times than I can count - most … Continue reading As a ‘Writer’…
And when the rain fell, they looked at each other and they laughed. Running through puddles, pushing and pulling at each other as they ran. Their laughter was loud and happiness radiated from their eyes. To live in the moment was a miraculous thing.
And then with 5 little words, the stresses were gone. The words came out of nowhere, from somewhere behind her and were so very much familiar... and British, that she actually felt herself sigh. "Stick the kettle on, then."
And then the whistle blew, the results were in and everyone sat there waiting. There could be only one. The weight of the world was on everyone's shoulders. Until the name was drawn and the weight of the people passed over onto the chosen one.
And then the knife slid through the silk scarf as though it was butter. It would have been beautiful to watch if it wasn't such an obvious threat.
And then the sky turned red and the people stood in awe. There was peace throughout the land. Finally it was over.