Yellow
The grass is all yellow. It crunches under my feet. I look up into the indifferent blue void. It’s summer, and I am … I am, under the black t-shirt and blue jean shorts, all yellow. It’s strange, but in a way I cherish this feeling. It is, paradoxically, comforting. That’s because I know it…
Voyria Doesn’t Give
Everyone wants to be Voyria. Voyria inherited in her twenties. She is still in her twenties. She spends her days scrolling through her phone: she looks, but never posts. She Just Eat s, but never cooks. She doesn’t care if the books she flicks through, or the music she has on in the background are…
Sometimes there’s a tissue in the wash
Sometimes there’s a tissue in the wash. The washing machine goes on as normal. But later, when you’re checking how long there is left in the cycle, you see it – front and centre – lodged in the rubber seal between the drum and the door. I didn’t check the pockets/ No one ever checks…
Get new content delivered directly to your inbox.
‘Glasshouse’ image by Liam Powell http://facebook.com/liampowellart
Morwenna Blackwood, Author 