Through the lens she finds her target.
Visibility is poor, the last of the light fading into night. A little adjusting of the focus brings her target into view. It’s taken some time, but she may be able to get a perfect shot.
Continue reading “A Perfect Shot”
The postcard is all we have, our only clue.
It arrived two months ago, an image of a hotel, the colours nostalgic.
Continue reading “Wish You Were Here”
She throws up into the bin, her insides lumpy and smelling of sugar.
Once done, she wipes her mouth and smiles at me.
Fancy one more go? she asks.
Continue reading “For Your Amusement”
We spend our days playing in the closet.
In our imagination it is a spaceship, a doorway to other worlds, a portal that can travel through time. In the darkness we act out our fantasies, constructing the characters of our narrative. We play with the treasures that surround us – costumes in boxes, paperwork on shelves, trinkets that remind us of our parents.
We play all day in the closet, waiting for the door to be unlocked once more.
Continue reading “Monsters in the Closet”
We steal from shops.
It starts with small newsagents, one of us daring the other to take a pen or a packet of sweets. Gradually we move on to larger targets – supermarkets and corporate stores. Taking turns to steal something of ever more value, gaining the respect of our peer group.
Continue reading “We Steal From Shops”
A timid knock at the door.
Trick or Treat!
I open the door to find two Triffids standing on the doorstep. Costumes of incredible detail. Textures organic. Flower heads glistening under pumpkin lanterns.
Trick or Treat! they repeat.
Continue reading “Fancy Dress”
During low tide we search for remnants of the conflict.
Every day brings with it a new surprise, gifts from the battle upstream. Metallic objects washing up on the shore, many of them unfamiliar and no longer of use. Military uniforms floating by like leaves. Body parts settling in oily reflections.
Continue reading “Low Tide”