Father Death by J. Hugo

July 27, 2017

This morning, my father sent me a photograph
+++++++ of two people burning to death in their cars—
++++++++++++ twinned fires blazing the dawn

Playground by Scáth Beorh

+++‘I know where a weird playground is, Scooter.’

Backwaters by Yuan Changming

Fishes surging forward with waves
Boats gliding along the currents

Ambushed by Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon

The last few miles are always the hardest. I hate coming here but once the decision’s made I try to be positive. She’s old, after all. And, she is my mother.

A Crooked Stitch by Jonathan Douglas Dowdle

From room to room, and hall to hall, it beckons,
On the nights where sleep does not come,

Rue of Maiorum by Annie Blake

for Ehrlich

i wanted my life to live i noticed her green cat eyes her arms had been scratched by the sun thin like sucked meat of slither of bone swathes lifted onto the loft my life in no particular succession for i’m in atonement for my rendition

Ambleside by Tim Fellows

The old man leaned on the wall and looked at the house. It was, he had to admit, not the prettiest house.

Eddie by Danielle Matthews

The jar of pennies made a disconsolate rattle as it disgorged its contents onto the threadbare carpet. He counted them quickly, and thick black eyebrows knitted together in a frown. Not enough.

Daemon by Maggie Mackay

When she was a child, we sat close by her father.
We learned together, symbols, figures, words
and how to piece them together.