Was her brother a dream? (99 word story)

Was her brother a dream?

The boy in the garden was resurfacing. They’d played make-believe siblings before those words; “You know, don’t you?” She’d read his hurt at her confusion as anger, so had retreated. Spikey adults argued above them. Fragments of that conversation, and one other ambush cut deep enough to scar.

His echo became an imaginary friend, then guardian angel, then shadow. She forgot the name she hadn’t liked in her princess days, then misplaced his memory for decades. But he never left her.

It was weird loving someone you weren’t sure existed.

Then Darren’s letter arrived.

Mother Mezuzah; a Tree of Life Tale

Becca lived with her dad, Jo, and her younger sibling, Jacob, near the city park. From her bedroom window in their attic, some of the remaining trees of an ancient forest seemed to spill into their garden. Everyday her dad would put Jacob in a toddler carrier on his back and they’d welcome the day…

Dear Antisemite; a poem for Holocaust Memorial Day

The poem below is the first of a collection it has taken me a long time to share. I’ve not been sharing my work broadly for a while, both for health reasons and the sense of being silenced. Enough said on that one. This Holocaust Memorial Day I am sharing this. It is actually being…

A Billion Raindrops

A billion raindrops

fall like all the promises

you forgot you made,

cold, tired, soaked to my bones

I seek trumpets in the storm.

The Last Free Form Friday

Life will use the air abused by ill words as offerings for trees who paint our futures with their leaves.   Happy Friday Everyone, This post is later than originally planned but as a Brit going through the chaos of Brexit whilst processing a few things in my own life, I’m going to forgive myself. …

Stories of Objects that Sustain

My grandma’s handbag

carries memories

as well as coins and keys;

not just another thing to grab

but the next lines of a story….

in this circus home

forests of recollections

whisper new seeds.

Sand Treads

Tracking the lost ones I listen to the desert where the sands tread us.   Antonia Sara Zenkevitch  

Love All

  Whatever’s happening in the world, in all our lives, whoever you are I feel the will to say   I Wish You Peace!

#FreeForm Friday Round up and Prompt

  Hello all, Below is the wonderful round-up of last week’s #FreeFormFriday prompt, exploring the art of free form and combined form. Many thanks to contributors. Apologies for being slightly delayed today, life overtook events. From now on I’ll be running this fortnightly. If you would like to join in I’d love to hear from…

Love & Hate

Hate; a verb, an abstract noun

That we may give our power,

Love; a verb, an abstract noun

That is hate’s funeral pyre.