vulnerable
she collects pebblesuntil her hands are stiff. her fingerscramp up from inspecting themand her skirt pocket tears awayunder the weight. at home she tucks theminto corners, glues themin place. triesnot to breathe in the fumes. the leather satchel is torn,strips of material peeling awayin placesand she kicks it under the desk. home is familiar,with its …
vanished
the glass acts as a type of portal, separating ancestress from descendant. it’s been passed down over the centuries, held onto for dear life and handed down when the call came. the story is that the first one to live out the myth managed to enchant it in her last mortal act, and now the …
the hideout
for the first five years she tries to build herself a hideout, tries to hollow out space in a tree for a shed to hide; tries to slip into the depths of the forest and blend into the scenery. none of it ever works, she never feels quite right in the hidey-spaces she’s stealing from …
crescendo
she’s watchful of the night sky, waiting for it to arrive before she slips out under a cloak of her own making. outside, the city hums, content with the work from the rest of the day, and people are few and far between. tonight she’s tempted to take a glass to the roof, fill it …
wonderland
Flash Fiction July, 30 There’s a forest tucked away on the outskirts of the city. She doesn’t go there often; only in winter, when it frosts over and she has to wear thick-soled hiking boots lined with extra socks and haphazardly-stitched in knitted linings. She pretends it’s for the sheer beauty of the place, but it’s …
ties that bind
read the labels,map out a blueprint in red andwrite your ownInstruction.(need a tetherto reality,but don’t we all?) weave togethera chain:loops linked to each other.(do you know,you’re holdinginfinityin your hands?) braid a rope, shaky-handed:tricky, smooth, glossy:finer attention to detailrequired.ambition,vital. drift through the yearschain-and-symbol(infinity)looped around your neck.(double-infinityon your wrist) pretend to betetheredto the world;anchored toreality. (here is …
rain day
watch her:she is therain. watch as shecomes and goesat a whim,flittingthrough the atmosphere. she has themotion of someonewho knows:she’s transient. taps at thewindow,light and playfuland clear. Thisis nothingsubstantial. (not even enoughof her presentto appeasethe gods) see her playjabbing the windowwithsuchtiny hands. this timeshe is substantialenough. enough toappease you,the gods,Whomevercrosses her path. now –watch.see her batterthe …
street’s memoir
silent observer,are you tired yet?let me help youtell your story. here, you saw the couple:young.in love. arguing andmaking up. there, a girl trailed throughthe rain – let the bussplash waterat her feet. and here you sawthousands of peoplegoing about life. speak, please – sorry, i forgot.you’re silent. leave me myguessing game: i shall make up …
unwinding
she unwinds from the daythe moment she walksin the door. shoes are kicked off andlain on the rack;keys, deposited in a bowl by thedoor and bags droppedunder the table. the stiff blazer is droppedover the back of a chairas she walks in sock-feet tothe lounge. swaps suits for worn-outcottonand tugs a blanket off theback of …
wanderlost
she flicks the mapthat takes up one-third ofwall space.on her desk, there’s aspinning globe: sometimesshe taps it to set it rotating. unfocuses her eyes and lets the worldblur past. she makes a list,writing alphabetically,reverse-alphabeticallyand flips it around again. scrambles the order, calls uponline travel literature. in the evening shecrams in language, makesflashcards of grammar. she’ll go …
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