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...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 30, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Chemical Elements and Waste They’re playing card games in the garden. Whenever I shuffle the card pack or sniff their coffee, or shift their keys, they get furious. ‘You have no place here, Spotty’, they point a finger at me. ‘Keep out of the way....
by Helen Ivory | Jul 16, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Difference The two women cook together in the kitchen with the back door open. They swear and cackle about their boyfriends’ penises. When the sun gets lower in the sky they go out with their steaming plates and sit cross-legged on the tiny lawn...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 5, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
The Winter Coat My fingers flicked across the screen like a concert pianist performing a well-rehearsed and all too familiar musical score: odd numbers, one to thirteen, seventeen and twenty-seven (my lucky numbers), and a small bet on red, just...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 23, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Why the river? Shannon sat in her tattered recliner chair and scowled at the cheesy infomercials on the television. It’d been exactly four years since the Mississippi River took her son Gus away. Gus was a freshman at the state university where he...
