Poetry Post: Pisces In Pieces

It is a scary thing being
Naked while fully clothed.
I stand before you, toes 
Pointing inwards, like a frigid 
Pigeon hesistating on a ledge.

Short Story Sunday: St Patrick's Day

The feeling had been growing all week. It sat in the pit of her stomach, first as fear; then  anticipation. She eyed the crushed velvet skirt she dusted off once a year, and imagined that the colour rivalled rich Irish moss. The knock at the door made her start.

"Ready?"

Short Story Sunday: If the Fates Allow

There's no way to avoid it, Jocelyn thought, as she stumbled through the crowd. All around her were people with lifeless eyes in pursuit of something. Was it happiness? A way out? She couldn't tell. But she knew that if she was to survive the ordeal, she'd have to leave soon. Except there was one more thing on her list that she needed: a gift for Mr D. She closed her eyes and steeled herself as her body and bag was jostled by passers-by, seemingly on similar, perhaps more important, missions. 

Short Story Sunday: All the Things We Cannot Say

A car hooter sounded just as Derek closed the door. He walked around the desk and sat opposite her, drumming his fingers on his armrest.

"Do you know why I called you here today?"

She swallowed. Her mind became a roundabout of thoughts until she settled on one possibility.

"We are concerned about you, Sarah. Ever since Jack..." He cleared his throat.

"You can say it." Her voice sounded underwater to her. "Ever since Jack died."

Short Story Sunday:Latchberry Farm [Part Three]

It was Fanny’s turn to soothe the baby. She roused her body and willed it to cross the floor to the crib. Once the infant was in her arms, she reflected on her simultaneous joy and fear. She had lost so many others before. How could she be sure that this one was here to stay?