I curse the mirror
castigate my reflection
close my ageing eyes
a clock ticks downstairs
outside, gulls shriek in the night
my footsteps unsure
I pour soya milk
the refrigerator churns
its voice lamenting
Tag: microfiction
Haiku 15.5.21
the morning brings rain
petrichor spiced blossom
rain on puckered skin
we walk through sunrise
each step more melancholy
as the ending nears
a morning chorus
serenades our detachment
we replace our masks
Veil
Until the fog arrived, the school trip had gone well. The milky veil transformed the woods, the trees jutting out in warning. The kid, Jessie, was taken moments later.
She found us eventually, her skin as cold as a gutted catfish, her lips pulled back in hunger.
Luminous
As eventide passes, the aurora deepening, you brush my neck. It’s innocent enough, done without thinking; that’s how I know. “Look,” I say, taking your arm and pointing. A she-fox enters the glade, the vixen’s eyes luminous in the dark. So are yours.
