I’m struggling with so much in the brain to write about but wanting to do it justice and so in the meantime I bring you a commercial break of sorts with Shorts from Shorts which are really teeny tiny vignettes from Shorts I am writing, have written or am working on.
Short Snippets
****
I wear my freckles with pride. They are a constant reminder of my family-both sides were freckly. My Nan called them beauty marks and if mine keep multiplying the way they do I’ll be drop dead gorgeous in a few years.
****
Cheek to pillow, rosy, looking almost flushed against the contrast of the crisp and white pillowcase. Wisps of hair masquerading as tired ringlets yet ready to spring into action if necessary. Lying there. Sleep is for the innocent it is rumoured. Are we not all innocent when we sleep? Free at least or at peace even if only in a dream? “Look at her, she’s dead to the world,” she whispers, tucking the blanket under her tightly, as if for protection, and repositioning her favourite stuffy, to keep watch into the night.
****
But some might say she jumped out of the darkness. It’s all a matter of perspective really.
****
“He didn’t mean it. He knew what he was doing. He didn’t know what he was doing. I don’t know. He doesn’t know. He can’t tell us. It’s not what he wanted. To be silent like that.“
****
It’s all I know. All I was told. With some truth sprinkled here and there but mostly stories, lies and secrets. To protect perhaps but who needed the protecting? Was it me or was it them? All I know is that it is suffocating, deafening, black and feels dead.
