I thought it might be a good idea to go around collecting sun where and when I could. I wanted to hold any ounce of it that I could when it made an appearance.
My house is filled with flowers at the moment. Come and see! “With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, whe could not be happy?” – Oscar Wilde
“I wish it could be summer every day,
time precious and tasty in your palms
where laziness is no sin.”
This is a piece mixed with poetry, reflective writing and three very short stories.
You do the calculations. Money missing. Door open. Mum promising she locked all the windows. And it is in the ecstasy of fear and in the tremble of your voice that you rush to admit… “our house has been robbed.”
A short poem about Emerald Lake in AB, Canada… “blurry and faded, abundant and tempting”
I’ve just turned 20. Here is a list of all the things of all the things I fear will change. (nb all of my fears are irrational)