The earth is pregnant. The lumps and bumps of ancient peat bogs are fertile, fresh with moss and hard grasses, and far away from where civilisation has carved at the peat for fuel…
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The dead don’t speak. But I hear them all the same…
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A huge puddle had formed outside the door. The rain came down in diagonal lines. The trees opposite me shuddered under the weight of the water.
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The angel Virgil gazed down from where she stood at the top of one of the many trees of Eden, a crease between her eyebrows, evidently displeased with what she saw…
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05:20. My hand trembles as I slip a cigarette between my lips…
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I know all of the coming and going ons of this station. I see it every day…
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‘I felt as though I were dead,’ Ruby said, tugging at a knot in her hair…
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He was sitting on the sofa with his guitar, strumming. A notebook was open on the desk and a fountain pen, lid off, lay on the blackened page…
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June was alone on the grass in the middle of her garden. One of her chubby hands was buried deep in a jar of squelchy strawberry jam that her mother had left as she ran inside…
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Your family had a beautiful home. The ceilings were high, the gardens were grand, and it was filled with paintings you couldn’t touch and chairs you couldn’t sit on…
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“Do I have a soul?”
The Forbidden question. One that we all asked ourselves, one that could not be spoken…
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Like a blanket, the leaves cover me…
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