She held the cat tightly in her arms, relishing in the warmth. It was comforting, strangely comforting, how much she could rely on her cat. His name was Alfie and he was her life. However sad it may have seemed that cat was her life.
She carried the cat out into the snow, watching as his eyes looked curiously around, desperately trying to take in all the new sights.
He'd never seen snow before. That's why she'd brought him out in the first place. She hated snow herself. Hated the way it melted the moment it touched her. Hated the...
I walked across the field, staring at the animals that surrounded me. The bare skin on my feet felt strange against the soft lucious grass.
A grey mist covered the area including the animals, meaning it was difficult to see what they looked like.
I wondered to myself what type of creature they were.
Each animal had horns that rose high into the misty air. White spots and stripes covered them, making each animal different from the others that surrounded.
I took another few steps forward, getting as close as I could to one of the animals without being in...
Mist and fog everywhere.
It had started off as a beautiful African day. 30 degree heat and so they only wore shorts and t-shirts and packed a few sandwiches. No point taking unnecessary baggage, they told themselves. This is an impromptu safari. Let's be adventurous.
Then the fog came down. They weren't expecting this. And the track just sort of faded out. Bumping over grass in the battered landrover, they could see no familiar landmarks, nothing to lead them back to the road.
They were cheerful and amused at first. Lost in Africa! How foolish. What a great story. Then...
"Happy New Year, love." the elderly gentleman smiled at her as she left the shop. She didn;t hear him. She didn't hear anything. Clutching the small package in her hand, she felt a calm wash over her. This New Year was going to be great. The best ever. The last ever.
Allowing her thumb to feel the smoothe edges of the box, she ran over her plans in her head. Over the last few months, she had gone over and over how things would work in her mind. She had done her research. She knew exactly how many she would...
The elephant dragged it's feet leaving sandy clouds of gritty dust in its wake. Behind the elephant a group of half naked woman shook their tambourines and threw spectacular colours of powder around. The colours merged like a flour rainbow. I wondered where my mother had gone and imagined that she had been swallowed up in this multi coloured whirlwind.
I needn't have worried. There she was bending over the twin tub, her hair scraped back, her muscular arms winding the mangle in a slow, precise action. She turned to me and smiled. My heart leapt. She very rarely smiled....
I remember my Nans pension book. The smell of the paper and the ink. I would hold it to my nose as I walked to the post office. Nan would pre-sign it and Mary, the post mistress, would happily cash it.
Then, at the main counter, I'd purchase Nans usual forty Number Six Tipped and fizzy cola bottles for me. It didn't matter that I was only eleven. In our little village everyone knew everyone.
Eventually the pension books were replaced with the new banking system, something my Nan never quite got the hang of. My trips to the little...
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...
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...
She'd always come running when I called. I forgot myself at one point, and went to call her name, which made me feel even more isolated. It was so strange to be up on our hill alone.
A bitter wind whistled around the crest of the hill. I tugged my scarf tighter around my neck and wished I had worn a hat. It was so cold. Far too cold for a morning in March.
As I looked to the tiny ant-like people walking along the river bank below, the scene misted up before my eyes. It was not the same...
The bird landed. A thunder clapped. A dog barked and the bird opened a pocket on its vest.
Peering through a telescope, the yellow bird surveyed 360 degrees of the town square.
All along the square doors slammed and windows shuttered.
All but the doors of the saloon, which are more like shutters, really. Do saloons even have doors?
The bird shook its feathers. Focus.
From beneath the saloon shutters rolled a woman in pantaloons and suspenders and a blousy black turtleneck. She held in her hands two baskets, their covers carefully latched.
Kneeling in the street Liza double and...