Lost and found
The train was late. Twenty minutes. Nothing new for the Sligo/Dublin train. Late, always late. “There must be extra cows on the line this morning,” Dad laughed, sharing our usual…
Image by Envato
The Day After
My head was sore. I tried to lift it from the pillow; I tried aimlessly to pull my tongue from the roof of my mouth while feeling the back of…
Bus Photo -credit: Envato licence
Always Sunshine After The Rain
Nigel was 42 and lived in Great Harwood – near Blackburn, for those who don’t know the north of England too well. A modest home for a modest man. Nigel…
(originally published on May 6, 2018 by Zero Flash) - Image by Jeanette Everson
Rock, Paper, Scissors, Love
You. You are the rock I can cling to in stormy seas. You are my lighthouse and my life-boat. You keep me safe and guide me home. You stop me…
Image by Małgorzata Tomczak from Pixabay
Paranoia
You missed a call from me, I said, when he finally called me back. Three, in fact. Sorry, he said. Was busy. Of course, that got my back up, because…
First line is an exceprt from the book:
Talks on Manures — a classic text on manures and their application in farming.
Image by petergaunt2 from Pixabay
Image by petergaunt2 from Pixabay
Root Crops
Root crops are always manured, and the kind and quantity of the manure used and the modes of applying it vary with the soil, climate and the success of the…
Image by Jeanette Everson (Jinny Alexander)
The Pianist
The music lifts and soars, dips and soars, until the piano is in the forest and the forest is white with snow. Still the pianist’s fingers stroke and press, stroke…
Seventy-four days in Wuhan
The walls creep in to meet you. The door tightens in its frame. The windows, once large enough to let the outside in, shrink with every day that passes. They…
The Aerialist
My insides feel as if I have swallowed my bag of juggling balls. They tumble inside my stomach, piling up ready to burst out through my throat. Now they stick…
Photo by Steve Molloy (aka the stranger)
The Stranger Who Shot My Family
The Reflective Piece The Stranger Who Shot My Family is a real account of my journey between my English home (where I’m from) and my Irish home (where I live…
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