8.8 C
Norwich, UK
Monday, May 25, 2020

The Night

The night brings buzzing little insects that burrow into ears and crawl across flesh They surface when it’s quiet and dark They don’t exist until the plague   The...

The Dream of Writing

The first word came out on a limb, its meaning perforating the paper like a hiss, the letters written in a drunken haze. The first...

The Cemetery Cat

The grass was cut, the hedge was chopped, The gardener headed home, The sun had stopped, Already clocked off, And the cat was left alone. By Gravestones steep, and...

Untitled

I’ve always been scared of wasps. It’s a silly little phobia, I know. They’re much more scared of me than I am of them,...

Creative Writing: Annie and The Air

I swear under my breath, savouring the word, enjoying the feeling as it rolls off my tongue. It's not enough, so I say it...

Creative Writing: I don’t like the dark

I don't like the dark “There's no shame in being a coward!” I told myself after an hour of keeping eyes completely shut and sitting still, thinking...