Three Words. Part Two.

She watched him gaze around at all of the things she took for granted She took a seat on the train, just like all of the others, only she wasn’t like them, the others. Fair enough, she looked like them, same hair, dark and straight, same eyes large and brown, even the...

Three Words:

The train pulled in at the terminus and the flood of apathy drained out… They each knew three words. Like a baby in its first few months of life. Hello – こんにちは Thank you – ありがとう Goodbye – さようなら Yet, something happened on that first encounter....

Don’t Stop Believin’

The Old Mill: Vincent Van Gogh. Yes, a four minute song that waits three minutes and twenty seconds to sing the title lyrics… I say wait but it’s more than that. Like the Small Town Girl and the City Boy, in the Smokey Room. Waiting is so full of delightful...

The Bluebottle:

He eyed the six legs spread out below the chunky iridescent abdomen, covered by the two lace wings. He saw it out of the corner of his eye, as he opened the door. Like a bird in the sky, flying past the window. Only it continued beyond the frame of the view outside,...

Clouds:

The clouds in Brittany were like no other he’d witnessed before. Every time he took the bus home he’d notice them. It was so difficult to get a decent photograph from the window of the moving bus. Just as the opportunity presented itself, a speed hump would tilt the...

Home Again:

I woke the next morning to a beautiful sunrise over the English Channel and a €6.50 breakfast deal of coffee, croissant and orange juice. I don’t like driving long distances, especially in the UK. So, I decided to split my four hundred mile plus journey, from...