by Helen Ivory | Jun 6, 2024 | Featured, Prose
The Glass Door Before I knew it, I was crying in front of my entire dance class. Thirty women and two men in neon active wear, staring at me as I tried to explain why I was late. ‘Are you okay?’ a woman with braids asked. ‘The glass door hit me,’...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 5, 2024 | Featured, Prose
A Bit of Dignity His guest from Scotland dawdled getting to the shower and by the time she arrived, it wasn’t there. Instead, there was a hologram of a shower, one that didn’t leak. The water came down in soft, warm drops, perfect for taking a...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 4, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Meeting a Fig Tree I know a fig tree walks in beauty singing a fair song as soon as my heart beats. She uses elevators & electric stairs. People are astonished by her actions, but she doesn’t even bother to argue with them. She is very...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 3, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Hermitage Halfway within the sheltering woods you found yourself. The hut is an egg, gate of emptiness, closed and open. The four walls: passion and joy, fire and silence. A touch of ashes, smell of paper, sound of shadows. Like God, the Guest,...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 2, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
A Jar of Starfish You may think it’s because there’s so little room, but I believe we are holding each other so we don’t forget the way water holds us. At first glance, you may be forgiven for thinking us Autumn leaves – a crisped selection of...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 1, 2024 | Featured, Prose
You Had One Job There’s never a dull day at my job. As a porter at one of Cambridge’s oldest colleges, I’ve just about seen it all: tourists sliding past the “College Closed to Visitors” sign to gawp at our admittedly impressive architecture;...
