July 8, 2013 § Leave a comment
He could never walk by a phone box without checking it for abandoned change.
That was why he was always late, but he blamed the bus.
One day he found twelve euro in the change slot of a phone on North Earl St. He stopped checking them after that, said he’d never be able to top it.
His bus was never late again.
June 30, 2013 § Leave a comment
Denim flowers, I know, I’m a genius! I have been making them non stop. My fingers are cut to pieces, but it’ll be worth it. Denim flowers, what can go wrong?
Sam thinks I’m being stupid, that I’m just wasting my time, but I don’t care.
I know people are going to love them. I’ll be sold out in the first hour, I will. I mean it’s denim flowers!
Sam keeps telling me to stop, that I’m only working myself up about nothing, but I’m not listening.
They are great, you can pin them anywhere, to your hat, blouse, I could even make full bouquets for weddings. Imagine!
I’m going to be a millionaire.
Sam doesn’t believe me, but he never thinks any of my ideas will work. He’s been right so far but I’m going to prove him wrong with this one, I mean it’s denim flowers, how have I not thought of it before?
And what does Sam know anyway, he’s just a dog.
June 28, 2013 § Leave a comment
March 26, 2013 § Leave a comment
The little boy threw his sweets at the bus,
bouncing them off the windows
with a pop.
It swerved around
and ran him over.
Now he throws bricks.
March 22, 2013 § Leave a comment
I am a car
You won’t pump me again
You are a road
I am driving away
This was a journey
on a baggage carousel
We were never a ‘we’
until the end
March 21, 2013 § Leave a comment
Shy, loving M, 60s, seeking nice lady, similar age, to talk to & sit in silence with.
March 20, 2013 § 3 Comments
She walked by me everyday.
Her vacant stare was what drew me in. You could tell she wasn’t focusing her blue eyes on anything solid in front of her. She was just walking, letting her feet do the seeing.
A small blanket was always wrapped around her shoulders. It was probably technically a scarf, but it was thick and woolen, like the kind of throw your Mum would place on top of you when you fell asleep on the couch. It was on her shoulders everyday.
Some days it was really hot, the sun would beat down on me and the other people waiting forever at the bus stop. We would collectively wipe the sweat from our brows and raise our eyebrows at eachother, saying “it’s hot, isn’t it?” without any words. Yet she would walk by, dreamily, in her thick scarf, hugging it close to her chest with worried fingers and that expressionless face.
I’ve never noticed how much the lack of something can be so powerful, but her blank face told us of all the secrets she would never be asked to tell.
And how it was the day she didn’t walk by that I really noticed her presence. After years of seeing her spindly legs wander endlessly down the road, I became unnerved by her absence.
I thought quickly of all the possibilities. Maybe she had died. Maybe she had moved. But from where?
I realised I saw this woman more than I saw some of my friends, and her saunter past me every morning was the one constant I had in my hectic life, the one thing I could truly rely on.
I should have talked to her, asked her where she was going. Maybe she was walking passed every morning just waiting for someone to stop her and say “are you ok?”
I felt so guilty. I looked around the bus stop for a familiar face but the crowd was a blur of unknown suits and rain jackets. I never paid attention to anyone else who made this journey, only my lonesome woman.
I glanced at my watch. The bus would arrive any second.
That was when I saw her, tip toeing down the pavement towards the bus stop. Her blanket was firmly in place and she was staring at the horizon, exactly where the sky melts into the earth, heading for it with conviction.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was back to normal. She passed by as the bus drew up to the stop and I jumped on.
As we drove away I noticed a man look back at the woman through his window, a quiet smile brushing the corners of his lips.