photo by Juan Ordonez via Unsplash
I only went to the party because I was bored out of my skull, and that’s why I talked to
the peculiar guy who was leaning against the wall, too.
I told him to go ahead when he told me he did magic tricks and would I want to see one, expecting him to maybe produce a flower from behind my ear – it took me a moment to realise he’d begun to float.
Now I come to see him every day, trying to figure out how he does it – I keep failing but hey, I haven’t been bored in weeks.
photo by Zara Walker
New Year! New start. New hope?
Let’s pretend, shall we,
for the little ones’ sakes.
TLT photo prompt by Bruno Nascimento
Sophie shakes her head and says,
No, something simpler we can scribble on walls fast and without the alarms the white rose’d sound. She’s right – again – but before I get a chance to throw a tantrum, a brainwave strikes.
How ‘bout a daisy, then?
(Yes, this is the second time I used this
line in a title.)
photo by Baher Khairy via Unsplash
One, two: Unless she’s wearing
pink, everybody thinks she’s a boy (so what, I’m not dressing her in pink).
Three, four: She’s not bothered, I still get to decide what she wears (green & brown hide grass & mud stains, see).
Five, six: It had better look pretty or she’s not going to wear it (and she’ll be the judge of what is and isn’t pretty).
photo by Dominik Martin
His perfect profile stands out against the smoke;
I want to reach, take him away into a darker corner
& I would but for the possessive hand vice-gripping my shoulder.
photo by Ben Rosett
Throughout the ceremony, the groom ignores
the angry rustling coming from the oak still carrying his swing
because if he doesn’t look, he can keep pretending the dryad to whom he once gave his heart doesn’t exist.
TLT 34 photo prompt by Wolf Schram
I didn’t hear the door slam but I saw
the taillights of the big yellow taxi that took him away.
Suppose I’ll find out now if I miss him.
photo by Philip Estrada
yarn the shade of Eoin’s fiery hair which goes so well with her stripy bedlinen,
Gracie finds herself yearning for him and hasn’t darned a single sock
when Mam comes to fetch them.
the triple life-size oil
of himself behind his desk –
you know all you need about him already
Mary’s tried to tell the
joke which, last night,
had her snort vodka and orange with laughter;
either she got it wrong or it isn’t actually all that funny.