Category Archives: Mostly Micro

Repeat Injury

Twenty minutes on the garden Just a little bit of weeding It was that one at the back Just out of reach I stretched Couldn’t straighten Return of the bad back 31 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Return

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CCC191: Two Hundred and Thirty-Seven Days

One thousand days of walking, that’s what the story told. One thousand days from the west coast, where I was currently residing, to the east coast where I’d been sent to gather the shells. Yellow tourmaline shells, themselves the subject … Continue reading

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CCC190: The Waterers

I remember when you could wander there When your feet walked on dry land But that was back before the Waterers came. Well, that’s what we called them Always prophesying rising water Change your ways, change your ways, else it’ll … Continue reading

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CCC189: Changes

I was first born a stag and three hundred years I lived as he. But without a doe, or one of my kind, life paled and I was glad to change. I next became an eagle soaring high. Three hundred … Continue reading

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Old World Charm

Lavinia stared at the email open on her tablet with mouth agape. She didn’t understand the rejection. The agency had commissioned her to photograph the award-winning picturesque village of Saxlingham. She had sent in fifty photos specifically chosen for “old … Continue reading

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CCC188: There’s Gold in Them There Hills

“What’s this place then?” Millie glanced back at George, her hiking companion who, although younger always was slower. George slipped off his backpack and pulled out the map. “Don’t bother,” Millie said, impatient. “I remember now. It’s that prison I … Continue reading

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The Castle

They were tourists, obvious with their cameras, and the way they looked into every courtyard, down every alley and lane they passed. They made repeated reference to a leaflet. Finally, they drew level to where I sat with a coffee … Continue reading

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CCC187: Albert’s Old Boat

It was Albert’s old boat, the boys knew that, pulled onto the salt marsh, away from the tide. The boys also knew Albert was in hospital and word was he wouldn’t be coming home. That boat was idle, left ready … Continue reading

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CCC185: Always Remembered

The others were tall and elegant, with bodies well-formed and gowns structured and firm. She was short, her body weak and weedy, her gown flimsy, easily torn. They had a sameness, she was different; when together, she stood out, alone … Continue reading

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CCC184: The Border Trench

It took one hundred men one hundred years to dig out the border trench one hundred feet deep. But that was one thousand years ago. Time has filled it with silt and drift. Today it took me less than ten … Continue reading

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