by Helen Ivory | May 7, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Glass Houses The gardener’s breath comes quick, her movements slow with fingers dry as moths she trims dead leaves and gathers blackened seeds then tests her grit, one finger in each pot Last, lifting up a bottle, turns the tap a hollow drumbeat thump of...
by Helen Ivory | May 6, 2014 | Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
Three Book Cut Up (2) Daniel Lehan: Former paperboy, choirboy, shop assistant, ice cream seller, chip shop manager, petrol pump attendant, pub caterer, post office worker, theatre usher, cleaner, leaflet distributor, front of house manager, t-shirt designer,...
by Helen Ivory | May 5, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Uncle Colin Uncle Colin died while we were having pudding. Not a squeak, just toppled forward, face first into his plum crumble and custard. “I think Uncle Colin just died,” I said. Mum and Dad looked at Uncle...
by Helen Ivory | May 4, 2014 | Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
A sleep-trapped world could twist itself to other worlds we’d never want to meet; to worlds we’d run from if we met them; worlds in which we’d look at water fretted into gooseflesh by fine rain and ask what...
by Helen Ivory | May 3, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Straight Lines And Circles & Triangles He did the usual things. He changed his diet and exercised. He listened to programmes about meditation. He tried to find positives in what had happened. He read lots of the books he’d always...
