Tag: #writephoto
-
AN ACT OF MERCY
His face was as stony as the rocky outcrop at the top of the hill. I wondered if his heart was made of similar granite. Since Mum had passed he hadn’t shed a tear. My sisters and I had gathered round, reminiscing, watching old family films, looking through old photographs. We laughed at the memories,…
-
SUMMITS NOT RIGHT
‘Summits not right,’ he muttered in his mysterious way. I misunderstood his local dialect. ‘Something’s not right?’ ‘Yes,’ he pointed up to the top of the hill, where I could just make out the wall of a lookout tower. ‘There’s something wrong at the summit.’ ‘What’s wrong?’ I could see no sign of anything untoward.…
-
ONE WISH
The tree had become a massive shrine of wishes, colourful material decorated every branch, weighing them down and causing them to bow towards the ground. It had been a place of offered prayers and wishes before, but since the boys had become trapped in the cave, the wishing tree had become a focal point for…
-
BY THE CROSSING
He sits and paints. I look around the room. There are hundreds of paintings. They all show the same bridge. Sometimes in sunshine, sometimes in rain, sometimes covered in snow. Sometimes the water underneath runs high, other times the level is low. In some the colours are bright green and blue, others are grey and…
-
THE LAST VETERAN
Ebb and flow, waving goodbye, waving hello. So the sea goes, ceaselessly. Old feet on fresh sand. The water no longer running red. Memories crashing inside his head like waves on the shore. Creaking knees bend, arthritic hands dig into the ground. One old tear trickles down weathered skin. He will never visit again. He…
Iain Kelly 