Corner pocket of the eye Thatís where he keeps it undertones, unturned stones Leave it alones Right there it sits Just lapping around Pools of potholes, ridicules, Truths untold Baked into the batter of crows feet Too much salt not enough sugar But it donít matter He wonít speak About what he keeps In the corner pocket of his eyes
The sky darkens when the bus gets closer to the coast and the temperature drops for May, reminding me of swooping seagulls and sand blowing about in the wind, the grits getting into my eyes.
A large sign reads: Lyme House, 1 Mile. The driver takes a left, away from the road to the House.
Lyme House, where I first met her. A mile inland, tucked away in a private driveway hidden by trees and hedges. Mostly rich kids attended, but I got there on a scholarship, meals provided. From the start, I couldnít understand why our hosts had chosen such a dismal town when theyíd...
The woman with silver hair wore a cream cardigan and sunglasses. Pushing a small suitcase along the ground, she approached the ticket office.
Dawn thought there was something familiar about the woman, but she couldnít identify what. The voice. West Country. The accent reminded her of wild flowers and of an afternoon in a garden many years ago. † An untidy garden in Devon with autumn leaves and a pond and clumps of damp earth. †
I never showed my dogs any tricks that appear to please people I grew from a puppy to an adult, mind I sometimes patted her and she had the habit of using my feet as a pillow when I was watching TV. when she got older, she got a bit grumpy when I moved my feet. Today I watched how they killed Pablo Escobar, a drug trader a murderous gangster, all his costumers, live in the USA. As usual in this cases, someone else took over and it will continue and this how capitalism work. there is a hallowed family selling opium in large...
She glanced at the time on her phone. Her shift would begin in a while. She inhaled hard on the cigarette until stars danced before her eyes and her chest hurt. She shut her eyes. The cigarette was making her dizzy and sick.
Horrible, stinky town.
Even the House looked totally different. A team of builders had ripped out the interior and rebuilt the structure, eradicating all traces of Mum and Dad.
Somber lessons too few learned Blossoms live within the hurt. Lonesome sighs upon the breeze Down amongst the falling leaves So it goes from tip to root Devil takes his daily due Darkness rend thy soul to bleed Sunlight still comes crashing through
I'm in deadlock. Immobile. Immovable. Adrenaline is pacing through each vein in my body, so much, that I can feel my circulatory system as a whole. Keep calm and breathe slowly. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Repeat. I look at the time. I hear the ticking in my head while every second passes by. Iíve almost got it. Iím almost at the goal. Just this one last obstacle.
All the gossip, all the rumors are true. The word coalition or alliance rolling of tongues, slipping through mouths. Itís just propaganda they say, nervously. Nothing of concern. It is coming, they all...
31. 32. 33. As I count I add Mississippi between each number. This is so foolish, playing hide and seek in the forest, I canít remember the last time I played this game. I am 22 years old after all. We all want to feel the nostalgia of being a kid again. Before playing, we were reminiscing about our childhood memories. 48. Mississippi. 49. Mississippi 50. ďReady or not here I come!Ē I yell at the top of my lungs, I hear my echo fall off the trees.
I turn around and I am disoriented but then all my senses start to heighten. My eyes focus on all. I am given wolf ears and hearing all....
Footsteps outside her front gate on the night of the storm. The shifting shadows darkening the pathway on the walk back to the cottage. The timer switch adjusting position in the early hours of yesterday morning. The call from the woman objecting to her living in the town.
The thick rural darkness. Dead silence.
Rolling onto her side, she reaches for the pillow and presses the cool fabric against her face.
For a long time, she lies like this, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, longing for sleep, yet dreading it in case she...