Forests Speak Slow

(An excerpt from a forthcoming book) Ron looked up at the branches as they waved in the breeze. One thing he noticed was the slight differences in climate and temperature, the sense of a unique environment against the rest of the surrounding territory. It was cooler as they went further in, and beneath his bare … Continue reading Forests Speak Slow

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Photo by Tim Samuel on Pexels.com March 2000 She watched him from the living room window. He stood there, arms down by his sides and hands clenched into fists with such force the knuckles stood out against his skin. Through the closed window, she heard him making those low, guttural noises which made the neighbours … Continue reading Smash – Like – Subscribe

Snow Day

https://cosmiksquirel.deviantart.com/art/Wasted-and-Confused-67105480 Corrine's day started as a low grade headache as she looked out at the window and saw the flurries of snow ¬†She massaged her temples and swallowed. Her tongue was thick as she scraped the edge of her front teeth over it. Corrine looked at the bruising under her eyes from too little sleep … Continue reading Snow Day

To Reach

  https://larage4peace.deviantart.com/art/islam-4-peace-02-96804342   How long had I been in this tower?   Enough to know I will die here. All they had to do is not bring me food, or I fell ill. Sometimes I thought about throwing myself down there. If there was no hope of rescue, then I faced death, whether it was … Continue reading To Reach

Memories of Summer

https://raphaellem.deviantart.com/art/Memory-of-Summer-710112608   Olivia parked the car on the grass verge. Paul was off work although he negotiated a conciliatory concession to buy the latest edition of the sports game he played on console rather than running around a field aggravating the knee injury which stymied his ambitions. She locked the car and slipped the keys … Continue reading Memories of Summer

A Bottle of Soul Fire

The floor was hard against my bare knees. My hands were cracked and reddened from the lye Mrs Peters insisted on using. My shoulders and back ached from scrubbing the same spot over and over, creating thick plumes of suds and fumes to make my eyes water. I had been tasked with the cleaning of … Continue reading A Bottle of Soul Fire