Tag: Writing
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NIGHTSTALKERS
‘Completely self-sufficient,’ he boasted. ‘The wind turns the mill and powers the dynamo at the back to produce electricity.’ ‘And the garden provides food?’ ‘Absolutely.’ ‘Won’t they come and steal from your garden at night?’ ‘That’s what I use the walkway for,’ he pointed up at the platform that circled the windmill halfway up. ‘Stand…
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PATHFINDER
Finally he came upon a path. He had no idea how long he had been wandering lost in the forest. At first he had stumbled blindly, with no sense of direction. Then slowly, gradually, he had begun to figure out a way to get through the tangled web of roots and foliage and trees. Now…
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DUSK AT THE BORDER
Dusk, the start of the night shift that no one wants to do. Bálint watches the sun dip down across the river, it’s reflection glinting off the water. A week of this to come before he returns to the lazy day shift, relaxing in the warmth of the summer days. In most places, the darkness…
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WITHERED ROSE
She had withered over the cold winter. The gradual process of ageing had taken its final undignified collapse. Francis wheeled her mother outside into the garden, where the morning sunshine had evaporated the dew and birdsong brought promise of the arriving spring. As the rays of light beamed over the frail figure, the hunched back…
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FATHER AND SON
A PROSE POEM: A shallow stream with a pebbled carpet, Dapples of sunlight on a shimmering surface. Bare feet cooled in ripples of water, Shouts and laughter and joyful splashes. A father and a son joined in play, A precious moment clutched from memory. Quiet descends on a father alone, A shadow of…
Iain Kelly 