Tag Archives: Stranger

Rootless

She had woken in a loveless society that admired nothing more than its own reflection. She had commuted dank streets for years, with her coat collar tucked protectively in the crook of her neck; masking the putrid breaths of strangers, their voices ripe with pessimism. She had died savagely at the hands of stony scavengers, in their quest for food. But, she had drawn her last breath with a smile; having observed a set of doors that had opened into a new and fragrant society.

April finished reading the last paragraph of her manuscript, placed it on the kitchen table, and looked at her Mother, who was standing at the kitchen sink, daydreaming into the garden.

“What do you think, Mother?” She asked, rotating her thumbs in her sweaty clasped hands.

Her Mother turned to face her. “I’m left wondering what the new and fragrant society was like.”

April grabbed a pen. “Then I shall write on, for you, Mother.” She spoke the words of her story as she wrote; her fingers dancing eloquently across the page.

She had woken in glorious sunlight with a diamante heart encrusted on her brow. A stranger had greeted her with open hands; had given her his maps, his compass, his lifelong supply of food, his honest smile. And on her journey of life, she had looked to the psychedelic colours of the skies; had glimpsed the wings of eternity. And all the while, she had smiled, loved, and had thanked the universe.

@alittlebirdtweets2015

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Distraction

Danger had loitered on a street corner that day. It had awaited the collapse of slate clouds, hard rain, and the thump of half-past five. It had awaited her arrival, stiletto-heeled. She’d stepped in the road, whilst struggling to open her umbrella; oblivious to the car approaching the corner at high speed. Metal had struck her legs, forced her body to collapse, and her head to hit concrete. She had laid in a grey sea, as ambulance crew, police, and strangers watched her; like she had been a newly erected sculpture. Voices had asked her questions, prompted answers; but she’d been too stunned to reply. She’d only been capable of crossing her fingers; of praying with her trembling heart, for the chance to see long corridors, fluorescent lights and fresh grapes.

©2013.alittlebirdtweets

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Poetry and Prose

From soul to soul

itsthebiblophile

Writing can be anything for anyone but for me it's to express the overwhelming feelings I feel that cannot be said .[Disclaimer : everything posted here will be my own work (p.s. work here means everything written and not the images) unless mentioned otherwise. Please do not copy.]

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