Read cherrypicked

(at the Alhambra Bar and Grill)

The long grass whipped her sun-browned calves as she fled out of the orchard, through the meadow, across the brook, over the railway embankment and into the dark green grounds of home.

In retrospect, the sweater was a poor choice.

Words: 516

She once asked me to keep her young. “There's not much I can do about aging,” I said. So she asked me to keep her youthful. “That, I can try.”

On the bright thread of time
I am nobody’s child
On the bright thread of time
I am not your mother
But some kind of kindred spirit
With the power of a larger body

In the morning she woke, body a sun-baked stone
only her lips alive.
Light streamed through the window
touching her body, dissolving its’ white dust
to gold

“Take the next road on your left and follow it for three hundred yards” she said.

“A beautiful world,” Joyce murmured, “but going on too long.” Every branch on every tree had a neat layer of snow and the sun shone from a hard, blue sky.

Gerry had just retired when his wife, Hilda, died of a night-time stroke. They’d been married for forty-one years.

short poem

Many years ago, I found myself working on a building project in London.
I was a young apprentice back then: Silly as a box of frogs and selfish with it.

This is a long 'short' I've been working on for a while. It utilises northern Australian Aboriginal folklore and I'd be very interested in reader's opinions.

The narrative is a gallery, within are exhibitions.

There comes a time of running away and perhaps that's when our ghosts press in hardest.

(No particular need to have read parts 1-5)

A thoroughly unexpected crisis arose when Father Barnabas walked into the bakery one clear dawn and transubstantiated the entire day's batch of bread.

poor old Wullie

Where does he get them? Crisp One hundred dollar bill - yet all with the same serial number but they are not forgeries - tested and retested to be genuine. So, where does he get them . . .

I expertly recall the moment when time erupted forth
a son

Rachael, a very young racoon has perplexing question on her mind.

REARVIEW MIRROR