The Shine came on Tuesday and left late Saturday evening.
But how many days or weeks had passed between that Tuesday and Saturday?
Some claimed it had been years, decades or possibly centuries. “Think of Snow White,” they said.
Others pooh-poohed any idea that more than the usual Wednesday, Thursday and Friday had slipped by.
“Look,” they said. “No flowers faded while we were in the Shine. Someone has Continue reading
I see its shadow first. The shadow of the one with the big humped shoulders. The misshapen, distorted shadow flits across my open newspaper like a dark breath.
Then comes the cawing – a raucous cacophony. The sky is full of crows.
While the other crows circle and shriek, the hump-shouldered crow sits in the tree beside my chair, silent. Its eyes are blank and dull, its feathers mangy and moth-eaten, showing bald patches on its stomach and head. We stare at each other. I’m the first to look away.
The flock of crows takes off into the woods. Only the hump-shouldered crow remains. I Continue reading
2016
Her hair was a disaster, matted, dull and tangled. But her fingernails were immaculate – long and smooth.
Her top was like a shroud, draping shapelessly over her shoulders. But her skirt was as glorious and brilliant as a wedding gown.
On her left foot a worn running shoe with scarcely any of the sole remaining, on the right a Continue reading
scarce any light in the bedroom
save the guttering candle in her hand
scarce any sound on the stone stairs
save the whispering folds of her robe
scarce any air to breathe to breathe to breathe
scarce moving towards the old oak door
save for one small step
and then another
the touch of his icy fingers
sweet murmur of white doves
save her
Susi Lovell 