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We fear darkness and have been taught to do so since we were small children. Nothing good ever comes from anything dark, stick to the light my love, follow moonbeams, never stray from the path into the murky depths that lap at the edges of your world. At some stage in our long or short lives, we inevitably become lost in the dark. It is the way of things.   I see you gathering darkness as the world becomes too much to bear, and you have cried saltwater tears that pool around

Ryan woke up slowly, distorientated. Still dressed in his uniform, weapon loaded, the young man tried to get his bearings as the first rays of light began to filter through the cracks in the wall that served as his windows to the world. He coughed and exhaled a mouthful of brick dust, wiping tears from his eyes that trailed down his cheeks in ochre-coloured rivulets. A sudden, sharp pain ripped through him and reaching down to his left side, he felt the metal projectile that

Putting the finishing touches to her rather fabulous creation, Meena stepped back to enjoy the view. The cake was truly scrumptious to look at and had taken her the best part of the day to create. The three coloured sponge, in layers like a Neopolitan, blended perfectly with the filling, her own take on Nutella chocolate spread but without the commercial fuckery. On top, a darker chocolate lay in swirls and loops, drizzling artfully down the sides of the cake. Topping it off

The topmost post was right there, where it had always been, of course, on the brow of the hill. The tallest hill in the verdant, gently undulating landscape. The post had once been brand new, made from the finest Huon timber, standing proud and tall in persistent rain, bright summer sunshine and pristine winter snow.   Now it was both weathered and care-worn, even a little flaky in places. Initials had been carved into the body of the post, which had also been poorly decorate

Is my bowl of cherries half full or half empty? I have counted them numerous times, inspected their rich, ruby roundness for flaws. I have eaten none. I have neither filled the bowl nor emptied it.   I adored the youthful flush of cherry-blossomed youth, the beauty taken for granted. No fear of falling, just gracefully fluttering to the ground, knowing I could rise again with ease.   As I gather up the succulent cherries, I name them. They may have had names in the past, like

We feed our bodies to make them grow, and our brains so that we can live life to the full. We need to look into our hearts, fill our souls and make them grow. What then is a soul?   It is the tug at your heart when you witness pain, the joy that a small child's laughter can bring. Your soul can take flight, sending you soaring above the world, marvelling at the beauty that exists everywhere. It can be overfed, plunging you into adventures that scare you. Urging you on when yo

I stared and stared at the huge painting. Well, you could hardly miss it, displayed in pride of place above the hearth, the heart of the room. The heart, the focus of the 17th century piece. The heart from the hart, so recently murdered. Yes, murdered. The hart's heart that the hunter, dashing in a wine-red ensemble, held out to the woman.   "I give you my heart."   "It is not yours to give."   "Nonetheless, it is yours."   She steps down from the painting, and I realise she

The day had started off in a regular kind of way. Blue sky with a dusting of clouds and a light breeze rustling through the leaves of the old oak tree that Cressy had perched herself under. Sitting on an old milking stool, paintbrush in her left hand, she looked at the blank canvas balanced on the easel in front of her. For the fifth day in a row, she stared at the whiteness, hoping for inspiration. None came, so she picked at her already ratty fingernails instead, paintbrush

Well I'm back and what a start to the year it has verily been. On a personal level, the two of us, along with the dogs, have moved to our no-mortgage, almost off-grid paradise. There are many, many things to finish. It will take months if not years, but it's starting to feel and look like home. Yesterday, I stopped to breathe and listen to the new sounds, really look at the environment around us, and get a feel for the place. Just over 16 years ago, our journey brought us her

Grey. Thick, wallowing walls of grey. Almost sticky in its shadowy consumption, reaching tendrils out to grab my pale-skinned body. Piercing my skin, entering my ears, nose and eye sockets. I become the grey as it swoops me up and takes me deeper and deeper into myself.   I wake up gasping for air, my lungs responding slowly as I try to sit up. My body is sluggish, and then I remember how much wine I consumed yesterday; that's hardly surprising. I realise I'm holding my breat

"Boys don't cry," his mother had drilled into him. Especially not big boys like you. Back then he supposed he had been big, too many calories, too little activity. Feeding himself with what was in the pantry, none of which was ever healthy. Sitting on his lardy arse (not his words) and playing games where he could shoot, stab and kill, the stuff that 'real men' did. He didn't really enjoy it, but it was better than interacting with his parents. His right-wing father never had

Usually, I don't mind missing out on social occasions, sometimes I actively embrace my own company. So I have to admit that spending a 'just the two of us' Christmas initially sounded appealing, cheap and easy. I wasn't expecting to feel sad, lonely and at a loose end. I should be feeling excited, eager, and happy that we will very soon be in a home of our own again. I am meant to be packing, clearing out our rental, getting things ready for the move. But no, I am distracted,

'Twas the night before Christmas............. Jack finally relented and cut a few branches from the massive fir tree at the end of the garden, the one he had planted for Noel's first Christmas. Arranging them in a manner he hoped was somewhat artful, Jack headed back out to the shed to find the decorations. Unearthing the boxes from underneath a pile of other crap and a few monstrous spiders, he made it back to the house just as the first snowflakes began to fall.   Jack was

Alyssa moved the photo to a different position on the desk, one where she could see it when she needed to, but not one where it confronted her every time she sat down. It was her graduation shot, and she was smiling for the camera, standing next to a serious-looking Gabe, her rock, her best friend. She closed her eyes for a moment or two and imagined what he would say if he were with her today, her first day in the corner office on the 28th floor. Something like, "You did it

After Bondi, as our nation reels I thought, there is no need to write Whatever I put onto paper just might Seem a little contrite And that's not alright.   I don't think I can make the rest of this rhyme while still trying to give it meaning. I tried to shy away from the socials, I really did, but my curiosity got the better of me and I cracked, unable to resist the temptation to view what incisive comments might make an appearance. At first, not many, but after two days the

When Father Time crashes your party, and he will, you'll know it. At first you may just feel a bit 'off', unbalanced perhaps. The aches and pains that have been rumbling through your body for some time feel just a bit more real. But you pop some painkillers and launch yourself out into the world, just maybe with a tiny bit less energy than you had yesterday.   Ageing is inevitable and no amount of supplements or three for the price of two gadgets will change this. It's how yo

She stood on the outcrop, her edge of reason, the place where she had watched him leave and return over the years. This time he had stayed for a year and a day. Together they had fished, dug, sown, reaped and stocked up for winter, although what passed for winter on the island was barely that. In the evenings they had broken bread and shared stories as they had always done. Hers were mythical imaginings of Gods and distant lands, tales spun like gossamer threads delighting hi

This entire year has been a sharp descent into lunacy beginning in America, land of the free, as it was, as it never will be. Every day more actions of a madman, many of which affect the rest of the free world. It's almost as if he knows his days on earth are ending and he is determined to leave as much chaos behind as he possibly can.   My sister and her family are American and I haven't visited for some years, but once this is all over, I would love to go and spend time wit

"What did you bring?" Looking at the table groaning under the weight of 50 million calories, Esther thought about lying but she was a terrible liar, always had been. "What have you got there child?", her terrifying grandmamma used to ask. Despite always wanting to reply "Nothing", she would find herself opening her hand to display her contraband every single time. It might have been a feather, a flower, a teardrop shaped jewel dug from a piece of costume jewellery or a sweet