Creative Works

The little monitor light flickers. Again, again, again, like the rhythmic beat of Bon Iver which trips through your headphones. You’re tired, it’s late, and you can’t stop thinking about that email you’re fairly sure you forgot to send.

Scratch that. Entirely certain that you did not send.

Do you remember that time when we were walking down that grey-stone street in Huntingdon one afternoon in May, some seventeen years ago now? You’d let me choose my outfit that day. I was wearing my glittery pink trainers, fuzzy lavender bodywarmer, and tulle skirt over striped tights.

His feet leave their mark on the soft sand as I wait, frozen still. Every move is a dangerous dance of the unknown, and I can’t seem to bring myself to move a toe in the wake of his arrival. My eyes stare, rapt with attention, as a dull ache begins to blossom behind my brow.

It should be impossible but there he walks through the surf I thought sure he’d forgotten. My lungs feel close to collapse as I try to make sense of the sight of Theseus, returning to my side.

For days I’ve wept and yelled

Her eyes are unfocused as she stirs her cup of tea. The hand not holding onto the small, silver teaspoon clutches the pendant at her throat like a lifeline — a tether to the reality she knows.

The chain is golden and sturdy, with small fastenings that interlink to form a sweeping arc around her throat with an emerald at the front. Her birthstone. I bought it for her two years ago. My May Day love.

A moment passes and another goes by. A minute more and she's still frozen in the simple motion. T

One step, one glance, one word. That's all it took for me to fall.

The cracks reverberate beneath my feet, spreading outwards and reaching for him before I can stop them. Like a deadly kaleidoscope, they surround me, bigger cracks interweaving with the smaller that branch from them. Small buds of water occasionally spill from the gaps that puddle where I step and I find myself dodging more and more as I go.

The garden was a mystical wood, a park and mountainous region all, stretching and wrapping around three corners of my house. The door shut with a click and I turned for the holly tree. Crouching low beneath the bough, I pulled the hood of my coat tighter around me, careful to turn my face from the spikes.