I have 56 stories published in
2 collections on the site.
My stories have been read 60678 times
and 28 of my stories have been cherry picked. 1 of my 100 comments have been voted Great Feedback with a total of 1 vote
It seems unlikely now, this piece of stone snatched from a beach somewhere on Tenerife. She found it. I wonder if she set out to find an astonishing souvenir,
These unwashed, threadbare shirts flutter to earth and flap in packs like filthy feathered yobs. Or tissue-thin old men shoulders hunched and huffing on the edge of things.
Eighty-eight, bent double In ovens at the retirement home, Scouring for beer money, Telling the old bloke I wasn’t his son And no, I didn’t have his slippers on, Time after time.
The hands, almost monstrous, are chipped and weathered, huge and could encompass a child’s head easily. He grabs the logs he’s cut and stacks them in the shed,
And so he sat and thought between the soup and the semolina, how this or that would be a good idea, considered how a lawn needed seeding, or how a life needed living