Languorous, lingering, luxuriant and self-indulgent. I never could have dreamed of such a day, before the other night, when he called me: ‘Ingrid?’ ‘Yes?’ ‘Are we still on for tomorrow?’ ‘Why ever not?’ I asked: ‘What was the plan again?’ ‘A picnic,’ he said, ‘by the lake: I’ll bring the sandwiches, if you’ll bring the... Continue Reading →
The Key #haibun #flashfiction
Sometimes, we’re not given a chance to come to terms with the imminence of our death. Something unexpected happens, and before we know it, it’s all over. I’d parked the car at the sea shore. The waves were getting wilder, and my son pointed out a particularly high one on the horizon. In a panic,... Continue Reading →
Now Ain’t the time for your tears: #dVerse Prosery
It's getting closer to home now: easy to ignore unliveable wet bulb temperatures in the Indus Valley, perhaps, but when whole towns are decimated just down the road in Germany, even the ears of the deaf start to prick up. Still want your pipeline now, Angela? Meanwhile, across the Channel, the new Health Secretary has... Continue Reading →
Execution Day #flashfiction
All those close to the President would be lined up outside the Palace and told to run, but they wouldn’t get far. I was in the airport. They were coming for us there too, but there were no guns, only razor blades. I escaped down the service lift and hid in the luggage conveyor. I’d... Continue Reading →
Guest Post: ‘Tilting at Windmills’ by Valdis Stakle
I am an old man. I had a busy life once. A wife, a family, a career, but these days, retired, I live alone. I am swiftly advancing in years: too swiftly. I have some friends. I value those friends, and I hope they value me. We meet on a regular basis, in pubs, and... Continue Reading →
‘Courier and curator of dreams’ published at Free Verse Revolution
I dreamt of you last night, and I was glad of that, because I haven't seen you in a long time. It's already past five years. There I was, wrapped up in my own little world with all of its perceived problems, and there you were, sat at a cash register, frantically working away while... Continue Reading →
The cloud-capped towers #haibun #earthweal
Driving home from York as a child: it’s a long drive, nearly three hours. First you cross the Vale of York, then over Bowes Moor from Scotch Corner down into the Eden valley. It’s a lot of wide open spaces and even wider, open skies. I can’t remember the time of year, though I’m guessing... Continue Reading →
The Savage Mother (excerpt) – Maupassant translation #haibun
"I had an infinite love of this landscape. It is one of those corners of the world which hold a sensual charm for the eyes. One loves such places with a physical love. And we who are seduced by such landscapes hold tender memories of certain springs, certain woods, certain ponds and certain hills: seen... Continue Reading →
This golden moment #haibun #dVerse
The washing machine sloshes with a dim, somnolent hum, but that's not it. My heart pumps, blood also sloshes: if I close an ear, I can hear it. That's not it either. I draw breath, try to breathe the light, breathe out the darkness: is this it? Getting closer. Time spent in meditation is time... Continue Reading →
Chronicles of Lockdownia #14: Departure
And now, the time has come to leave the Southlands and once again and this time head North to Quarantinia. Following Erasmus' funeral, we returned to the Summer Palace and made preparations for the ride North. The rebel leaders mustered men and equipment. Palace staff ensure the vaccines were stowed safely within our coaches, for... Continue Reading →