by Helen Ivory | Aug 23, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Wendy Ann Greenhalgh, is a writer, artist, teacher and story scavenger. http://www.storyscavenger.com...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 21, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Aflutter He teaches himself dance theory from books, and, when the others have gone to bed, he turns the lights lower and starts up with practice. He takes in the black ink of the words and translates it to footsteps and slow, jerky (at first) swings of...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 20, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
He Arrives Home Drunk (with Stage Directions) He is downstage right, half-sitting on, half-across an armchair, in a fairly slobbed-out bodily situation. The light from the neon strip is garish. She enters upstage left and walks quietly towards him but...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 19, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
The Trees & Their Names I’ve been given a list, the names of the trees. The task is to go into the forest and match the names with trees. I start with an easy one: English Oak, Quercus robur, I pick a tree which looks to be about 500 years old. It is a...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 18, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
Miracles have plagued this town … So when the blacksmith saw Father drop his crutches, and go running bow-legged down the street, he simply spat and swore; hammering his fizzing curse into folds of hot metal. Later a passing carter found our old man...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 16, 2012 | Prose & Poetry
The ego is never clean Today isn’t gross with worry and the sky’s wide open tarp is thrown over precisely. Then I climbed back inside myself and thought: I really am what people think, and on thinking this licked my smile shut, patting my boring old...
