The first day in my new world, I thought I was free. The streets of the city went so far, I couldn’t see their ends. The buildings were long-legged birds; it was wonderful to be underneath them. Sounds were true, not muffled through double-glazed glass. Taxis lurched and wailed, people stood whistling at the kerb, … More Flash fiction: free
The last time I saw her she was walking to the cemetery. Sunbright, arms full of daisies. “What for?” I said. “They’re all dead!” She did not turn; it was as if I was already gone. Our last night, I said, “Leave with me,” and she said, “How can I? They will miss me if … More Flash fiction: under stone
Today. The ocean in a blustery wind, so alive and electric I wanted to sing and ride the wind like the birds did. I couldn’t stop marvelling, hairblown and turning, clouds shifting colours and the sea a tumbling roar. This, I thought. THIS. This is what it means to live.
Gerta said, ‘If you’re to stay you must have the Lord in your heart.’ I thought, I’ll take the Lord, if it gives me a roof over my head and a place in bed with you. So I said, ‘I’ll take the Lord, gladly,’ and kissed her honey skin. She said, ‘I’ve asked Preacher Bartel … More Flash fiction: Pull me down
Today one of my writing students came over for a visit. She finished high school last year and has just begun a University degree in Creative Writing, which makes me (and her!) very happy. Over many cups of tea, we talked about words and worries and dreams and it was seriously lovely, to share that … More Writing with a friend
It’s not so much the rain that disappoints but that the roofs are clean. Everything’s begin-again washed, tiles like new almost, but I’m partial to the coal grime and speckles of pigeon poo; it gives my toes something to hold onto. Now it’s a job to watch each step and it’s hard to balance, with the … More Flash fiction: A good day
This is where I live. (Approximately) This is the view I can come and see, any day I wish. I know that makes me lucky. And this below, is my painting of my sea, my sky. The space I go to to breathe. I painted this six weeks after my beautiful friend Anna died. … More All these things are true
Last night, I was the keynote speaker at an event celebrating International Women’s Day. It was such an honour to be invited, and it was a beautiful night. There was a drum circle, poetry, spoken word, singing, and the night had a palpable sense of strength and joy. To those who sat in the audience and clapped … More Womanhood in Words