‘Prayer’

I still remember when you held me in your arms, both of us illuminated by a full, bright moon determined to show us the best possible versions of ourselves. I was at once the most powerful and the most vulnerable creature in this world. Sometimes I still visit the tiny island where I felt your lips on my neck for the first time, and I can feel them still, a faint ghostly tingling as I turn my face towards the night sky, hoping, praying, that my home did not claim your life as my family insists. That I will see you, an unexpected surprise on the sand, mooring a boat with your head tossed back in careless laughter. But I have not seen you for almost twelve full cycles of that moon, now, and whenever I hear the waves crash against the rocks on particularly stormy nights, hope slips a little further out of reach from my heart. Continue reading

Writing Prompt Exercise: Fortune Cookie

“Write yesterday’s fortune cookie. It got everything wrong.”

Er, might have missed the point of the above but it inspired the below short piece – enjoy!

Fortune cookies are funny things, aren’t they? They’re either ridiculously cryptic or they’re so simple they’re scoff-worthy.

Last night, I had the girls over for take away and mine said: “You will marry your lover”.

I, of course, had outwardly scoffed and inwardly glowed – that’s the other thing. If they’re what you want to hear, then you still get a warm fuzzy feeling. Continue reading

Writing Prompt Exercise: ‘She’d only given in because she was lonely…’

Returning to the good ol’ writing prompt exercises to get the creative juices flowing! I got this one from WritingExercises.co.uk.

She’d only given in because she was lonely. Even though her elderly aunt could be arduous company at the best of times, anything had to be better than sitting in her tiny flat on her own, another Saturday night in a row.

“Lizzie, start with that box there,” Aunt Viv instructed, pointing at one of the smaller cardboard boxes amongst the many strewn in front of them.

Lizzie obediently flopped down on the floor, legs crossed, and dragged the box towards her. It was covered in dust, like the others, and she sneezed as she slid one scissor leg down the middle of the strip of tape so carefully applied many years ago. Continue reading

‘Honeymoon’

I want to lean back in the evening breeze, against a balcony framed by the setting sun. I want to smell citrus on the air, kissed by a faint hint of tobacco. I want to feel my pulse quicken as your fingers entwine with mine, firm and sure. I want to hear the soft thrum-thrum-thrum of a guitar in the distance, weaving gently through the laughter and chatter in the street below. I want to dance with you, and for you to catch me when I stumble with a laugh, a little drunk – on excellent wine, yes, but mostly on happiness. I want you, on this warm, perfect, sultry evening. I want you, forever and always.

Thanks for stopping by 🙂

Ro x

 

‘Thoughts of a Sidelined Sister’

In the end, it was never about her, but me. Nobody stopped me from dancing – but she danced so well, all eyes drawn to her swaying hips and joyous expression, I gradually began to sit down more and just watch. I felt as though I was doing the right thing in joining others in their adoration, and ignored the small niggle saying otherwise, dismissing it as selfishness. The microphone always passed to me as well on the family karaoke nights, but she sang so well, with time I thought it best to just pass the mic along so that everyone could take pleasure in her voice for that much longer. That high school summer when we both qualified for the temp job in the library, I backed out of the interview so she could claim it, and told myself it was fine – she needed the experience. Continue reading

‘Motherhood’

When you cry, anxiety seeps through my mind to the point where it is saturated, unable to contemplate anything other than  alleviating your suffering, and I wonder sometimes if you cry simply because you know this. When you laugh, a contentment such that I have never known before spreads through every inch of my being, warming me in a way that even the most golden of sunbeams cannot. I love you.

Continue reading