Category Archives: Short Stories

Handwritten Pages #17

 

Standing inside the phone booth, its panes of glass crumbled to hail stones on the concrete floor, with the receiver cradled against my ear, I pretend to put coins in the slot while listening to the dial tone. The static drone a soundtrack to the anonymity of pain. Stabbing the numbers in a sequence I have never forgotten, hoping to call the ghosts of the future to tell them not to wait up for me.

Advertisements

Handwritten Pages #16

 

Autumn of Cheeseburgers

I walk through the autumn of cheeseburger wrappers drifting on the updraft of car exhaust with only enough change in my pocket to buy you and me an ice cream cone.

Zentangle #23 Threads

Threads

You see because
you look at 
the hand of God
in the threads

 

This piece is for sale $15AUS (inc postage to anywhere in the world). For an extra $2AUS you can get a set of zentangle postcards.

zentangle-postcards

If you wish to purchase this piece, leave a message in the comments and I will get in touch with you via the email address you use when posting a comment.

Calico tote bags featuring “Coloured Pencils” and “Stupid Question” and postcards are available for sale HERE.

UPDATE: This piece is now SOLD.

Zentangle #20 Patched Together Plasticine

image

Patched Together Plasticine
maybe
the difference between us, 
this 
patched together earth and water, 
living plasticine
is
we can see each other’s
dreams

This piece is for sale $15AUS (inc postage to anywhere in the world). For an extra $2AUS you can get a set of zentangle postcards. It is signed and dated, and the text handwritten on the reverse side.

zentangle-postcards

If you wish to purchase this piece, leave a message in the comments and I will get in touch with you via the email address you use when posting a comment.

You can also buy calico tote bags featuring Coloured Pencils (zentangle) or Stupid Question (blackout poem) or other sets of postcards HERE.

Zentangle #16 Prefer

img_20161127_130310

Prefer

you prefer
a human life
a choice
to look
one single time
to experience
what it may be
to be created

Handwritten Pages #15

image

     She ties the dressing gown around her waist. Lines up her toes where the metal coping separates the hallway carpet from the bathroom tiles. A diver’s stance. Anticipation of the tiles’ coldness.
     She steps. Plummets. Side steps the bath mat. Plants her feet squarely. Small ripples quickly subside. The cold tiles prickle the soles of her feet until it stings. Tapers off to an equilibrium.
     Repeatedly she will lie on her back on the bathroom floor undressed. Lets the cold of the tiles fight with the heat of her body. She relents. Acquiesces. Adds a layer of permafrost to her heart against the fire of her mother’s tongue.

Handwritten Pages #14

image

     It is the rhythmic rasp of the sandpaper she likes best. A counterpoint, and companion, voice to her grandfather’s asthmatic wheeze as he makes furniture and occasionally toys. Punctuated by the cough of the match head on the striking paper to light his hand rolled cigarettes.
     She can discern by ear the coarseness of the grit against the grain. Jarrah, pine, mahogany. He gives her the cork block and a sheet of sandpaper. Converses with her through each stroke.
     She knows, one day, this conversation will cease.