rosaliekempthorne
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My stories
Fire-Touched Magenta
Soft hands, Your hands, The remembered touch is carried in skin; Old-fashioned fire in the fireplace, Turns the colour of the quilt into something...
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- 249 reads
Fire Engine Red
Cacophony. It never ends. Whirring, whirring, louder, louder, Screeching. Scrawling. An arrowhead of sound, really, Fired down the street, Straight,...
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- 4 comments
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- 819 reads
Bright Yellow
Who are you, yellow roof? In amidst this tumble of greys and browns and ochres. Are you meant to be the sunshine? A pot of gold? A wedge of cheese?...
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- 110 reads
Bobby-Joe-George
I look out my window. I sit in the window seat and gaze down over the pavement. Five storeys up and it’s hard to see if there is moss growing in any...
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- 6 comments
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- 1387 reads
Red Roof on Rumble
I can see my other house from here. Or at least I can see the tip of it, the sharp tooth of red colour-steel cutting a chunk out of blue sky. A...
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- 305 reads