Finally, we came to rest.

The day's work had been long but fruitful. We had made double the monies we would have on a normal day at market but that was probably because we spent double the time there. We set off across the desert on our long journey home expecting to make it in time for Mama's fish stew for supper and for story time around the fire but it was later than I had anticipated. The Moonbore her silver glow to us before we had even got a quarter of the way. I settled down to rest for...

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I never liked autumn leaves as you do. I watched you look at trees, the delight on your face intensified when you closed your eyes and hugged the trunk. You once asked if I had a red ribbon for the pine cone you plucked, it would complete the winter bliss of the photograph you wanted to take. My purse always had what you needed, from floss to batteries, and candies to pain pills, and a red ribbon was procured.

Spring had you enjoying cherry blossoms. Summer had you enjoying shade. Autumn had you enjoying the gold and copper, the natural...

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swallowed by the water flowers at last
the canoe breathed across the swamp
I found the roots of an ancient oak
felled by Paul Bunyan
shed on by the ox
and dove,
a dove falling into the light,
to the tree's top,
waving in the murky green,
strange fish like oxen
strange waters
strange trees
the dove and the ancient oak

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The light was bright. This made a change from the usual dreary greyness of the sky. I walked along the street whistling to myself, this was the first time I'd been outside in the sun for what felt like months. I could feel a light breeze caressing my face as I strolled into the local park, leaves rustling in the wind, some falling to the ground around me, dancing in sync with the music I was humming in my head. I smiled to myself as birds darted back and forth across the beautiful blue sky.

I found a nice spot...

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Not particularly cosy and warm during dinner when all are bundled up on the sofas watching tv with the woes of work peering through the keyhole of the door tightly shut.

Nor tranquil and soothing in the morning as you slump through the pale blue bathroom with your body and mind working aggressively against the inevitable routine that will discharge all the energy you gained during last night's rest.

It conveys less about passion and adventure for love and life than the vivid red that somehow decided to reside the kitchen walls to remind everyone that your life mostly...

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I shivered. The moor was cold and damp on this February morning. The fog was thick and clung to my hair, my face, my clothes. I wiped my dewy glasses and stretched my aching limbs. I'd been hiding behind this tree for far too long.

I heard a crack.

I eased myself up, cursing my poor old back all the while, and raised my weapon of choice. I lined up my 'scope, taking a deep breath and smiling with satisfaction as the proud head came into focus.

Old Braveheart I called him. I knew it was a cliche but since...

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Crap. This wasn't going to be good.

The old man said 'Let's go deer hunting. Just like old times. Reconnect after all those years of you pissing away your life on the other side of the world.'

That was last night. We drank to it. He had some incredible Irish Whiskey. 12 year old. We killed a bottle. I hoped like hell that he'd forget the hunting plans.

He didn't.

Oh, Christ, he didn't.

My brain was tuning timpani drums in my skull. Like O Fortuna was ramping up. There was a fog over the field that may or may...

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Walking slowly through the bush, the elephant dragged its feet. Today he felt no joy.

The village lay behind him. Here were fields he could trample in revenge. Here were corn cobs he could eat, juicy and succulent. Here were the years growth of food supplies, enough to feed a family for a year. And he could destroy it all. If he chose to.

Today, he chooses not to.

Yesterday was different. Yesterday, he was fierce and proud. Head of the herd, head of the bush, head of the tribe; ah yes, he was the head of it all.


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After the snow melts and the grass starts to grow back, she takes her car and drives out to the country. If she keeps going, she'll find a soybean field left empty and filled with wild prarie grass. She parks the car, gets out and stands in the middle of the field.

She can see for miles and miles. The whole world is sky and grass. She can smell manure when the wind blows.

She lies down in the grass to sleep. The earth is warm and soft. She is sinking into it like a seed. Ever since her family...

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In the beginning was the word, and the word was drummed in to Mel from an early age.

An interest in science made her realise that it is good to question what you are taught is a fact.

Later in life, experiences crossed her path like black tar; the type of visitors that you did not want to call, the events that you would not wish on anyone else. Instead of speaking to an invisible deity, she calmed herself by looking around her world.

Staring out to sea, was the most calming solution of all. Yet not available in a...

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