by Helen Ivory | Jul 10, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Learning To Be I was not always like this; once, there was more of me; imagine this skeleton re-clothed, blackbird glossy, fleshy-plump. She, as I always think of my younger self, was dissatisfaction incarnate, and look where she’s got me. We were meant...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 9, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
War Paint A bonfire burns winter; the man standing and stoking the flames drinks from a flask. The smoke is sweet and toxic in equal amounts. A woman watches from her kitchen window, giving names to the shapes she sees. In the...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 7, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Indian Lemonade It was the coldest place I’d ever been; minus thirty as we slid down Garden Street; the Charles River, frozen marble-grey, so hard it might be safe to skate; all the summer rowing eights, abandoned. In the coffee shop near...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 5, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Had my fill And, now, it’s time, he said and left home. Now, it’s time, he said and left his wife. Now, it’s time, he said and found another one. And, now, it’s time, he said and had another child. And, now, it’s time, he said and told his boss to...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 4, 2013 | Prose & Poetry, Word & Image
The Invisible Banquet Sip on the sun, trapped under the bridge poached and runny as an egg. Chew on the beech leaves red, plump and leathery like tomatoes, sun dried and clinging to...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 3, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
The Art of Push and Pull “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Joseph despairs. “Do you ever just, shut up?” Clomp. Clomp. Clomp. SLAM. His wife pulls away in the silver Audi. From the basement flat below, Jenny perfects her wine-stained smile in a...
