Firstly, I will say that my body and I have had our ups and downs. I treated her terribly in my twenties. And so she decided to teach me a lesson. Somewhere between 23 and 24 she stopped…
The Hemingway Day. Move.
I am back from my little Spanish jaunt and now I find myself amidst a sea of boxes as the boy and I prepare for a little change of scenery. This week’s WordPress photo challenge is of change, and the…
The Hemingway Day. Surface.
So far in glorious London we have enjoyed about three days of summer. Today is the fourth. The sun is shining, the children are shrieking outside, my office fan is blowing hot air in circles, the inebriated are out early… and…
Happy Feet.
The Audition. The red door stood stark against a street of black counterparts. It was the exact shade of the virtual lipstick signature that sat at the end of the email she’d sent. She called herself Darling. I leant…
Dirty Laundry.
Dirty Laundry. The bell on the launderette door chinked as the man in the suit slinked inside. He was smartly dressed to the most meticulous detail; his cufflinks polished, the pleats of his trousers crisp, his finely crafted…
The Monday Muse. Skinny Fry.
You will have to excuse my meandering mind again today. As I was laid face down on a surgeon’s table this morning, I couldn’t help but wish I was sat on the riverside bench that the boy and I had…
The End of the Line.
The Hemingway Day… Aiming to deliver a few seconds of literary escapism as work begins to take its toll for yet another year. The End of the Line. He was ready. Just three steps. Thanks to the Daily Post for the…
The End of the Line.
The Hemingway Day… Aiming to deliver a few seconds of literary escapism as work begins to take its toll for yet another year. The End of the Line. He was ready. Just three steps. Thanks to the Daily Post for the…
Word.
The final day of photography101… ‘Triumph’. Word. “She stood up, and picked up the nearest cylinder and held it between her hands. It hypnotised her just as it did many years ago, the clear glass filled with spiralling tendrils…
Hunt.
Day 15 of photography101… “landscape.” Hunt. I edged lower into the rows of grain, willing the ground to be tight-lipped as it clicked beneath every movement of my limbs. A cracking resonated with every footstep he took. I froze…
26.2
Day 14 of photography101… “Swarm”. 26.2 The asphalt rolled under every stride, a convey belt of monotony if it wasn’t for the reason he took each footstep.
Adolescent Male.
Photography 101 day 8… ‘The Natural World.’ Adolescent Male. With each tread of his hooves his branched horns swerved backwards, his mouth edged upwards, his lips parted and he let out a bellowing cry. He commanded attention from…
