It was desperate gasps, it was glittering mortality. Yet absence from it was anguish. I use the sea to document my life. Somehow, the moments when my chin slipped above its molten surface were the happiest I ever documented.
Browsing: fiction
Promise me that there will always be one more orange slice left for me.
Promise me that you will peel it yourself.
Promise, promise, promise.
On his way out, he spotted a dead cockroach by the gates, laying on its armour-like back, with its dangly legs sticking up.
I exist here. I live here. I am life. It’s in me. I have to believe that will be worth something to me again eventually.
For the first time in ages, I stepped back into home before daylight even reached the doorstep.
Motionless, erect like a prop. I had no attempts of consolation for Giuseppe, nothing I had to give him at all, really, so I drifted, stupefied, out of the bar. He didn’t try to stop me.
with razor sharp
biting english words
and wonder if
my mother once a girl is me, just a little bit.
When your metal begins to rust unconsolably, and you too lay down and become little sand-fragments of steel and rust, this too will be lost with you forever.
I waved at my old friend. He held out his arms. I felt his hot, soothing breath, the skin of his arms grazing my bare back. A firework blew in the pitch black behind my closing eyelids. We talked for ages; he filled me in on what I’d missed.
Cyrus had been given a small gift a few months ago, seated on the edge of the veranda whilst cracking the knuckles of his small hands.
