Tulips
‘He looked at the field and tried to imagine it. Not just the colour, but the smell, the movement. Real flowers would have swayed in the breeze. He knew that much.’
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‘He looked at the field and tried to imagine it. Not just the colour, but the smell, the movement. Real flowers would have swayed in the breeze. He knew that much.’
Continue readingHe could sit here forever and be happy. He’s said that too. More than once.
‘Do you know what? I’m happy, so I am. Really, I am.’
His disappearance has left me out of kilter, and unbalanced. Facing east, I stop in my tracks, as if waiting for the signal to continue, waiting for the nod. But the man I always nod to is not there…
Continue readingAt seven forty-five the car will bleep with a flash of orange lights, followed by the front door opening. Two girls, young still, will stumble out onto the driveway, while behind, their mother, laden with school bags and harried – though not dishevelled, she is never dishevelled – will fumble with the keys and shout, ‘You guys belt up in there, okay?’
Continue readingOut on the lake, the low plaintive call of Canada geese lingered in the mist, the sound reverberating in the moist air like an echo.
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