by Helen Ivory | Nov 19, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
When this is all over… We will hug. There’re two types. A proper one starts off gentle, a soft caress as two people’s arms find a way through each other’s limbs, as chests start to touch, as each pulls the other tighter to them, as you inhale...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 31, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Cellar Stories: Ash & Elder Sunday afternoon there’s always roast dinner. Then mum and dad go to church. The twins stay and wash dishes. Elder-twin picks up a plastic bag with unused Brussels sprouts inside. The cellar door is open. Elder-twin...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 30, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
First Class ‘It makes a mockery of the whole university!’ said Tam Clark, the Senior Lecturer. He was a bit Old Labour, so this kind of reaction wasn’t unexpected. ‘Oh, no,’ said Jeannie McKay, one of the bright, younger lecturers, ‘it’s an...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 17, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Fell at the First Fence Liam limped listlessly into the lift. It was empty. He pressed the button for the seventh floor (Safetyseal Export Sales). There was the usual hiatus, while the mechanism seemed to consider his request. Liam weighed LIFE in...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 16, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Removing the Bouquet The Station Team staff room is just behind Lost Property. There’s a doorway, without a door, connecting the two. If someone rings the bell at Lost Property reception when you’re on a tea break you have to make a judgement call...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 19, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Part We didn’t expect it to snow but look it falls in soft flakes. Alone now, we leave the cottage between white folds and aim at mountains. You walk ahead: a gap, I leave and over your footprints, I press my own. We follow the stream winter...
