the fourth eclectic reader renders stories of nantucket whalers. i didn’t buy a copy, i stole one from my teacher and i kept it in my blazer. * 'from new bedford sound, pacific bound, they were gone for several winters.' * round the cape of good hope, peru and argentina... now, crossing the equator. i … Continue reading the 4th eclectic reader
Tonight, laying in our bed - feet beached in sheets, salt beads on our brows, salt beads on our cheeks - the thought again about leaving. It was fleeting, like the lighthouse beam that plays across the headland, plays across the bay. The beam that threads the walls of this charmed room is a silken … Continue reading A Thimble.
Paul, being her lover, tried, with his voice, to rouse her. She'd liked his voice. But not so much now it seemed. He spoke her name with a frog in his throat. We giggled. Sally did nothing. Then he was nose to the carpet, ear next to her's. He stroked her hair. He spoke her … Continue reading Twice (For Some Reason).
The pipistrelle circled the darkening square and, with an ease unseen, made a wheel of it; a welcome for the rising shadow tide. The bell, the harbour bell, sang once across Penn Beacon, reaching the garden some time after. The thin brass coloured peal echoed across the three walls of the back garden and faded faded faded … Continue reading Dim Witness.
coddled on the northeast coast as an autumn guest, we sweated a weekend out between her sheets until, the colour of almost - boiled albumen, i became. haltwhistle©reeves2019
Knott laid the hot bike down gently in the knee-high grass among the night shade of the trees, shy of the flood-lit garage forecourt. Dropped his helmet down. He rubbed his head vigorously, unzipped the jacket and took out the empty plastic bottle nested there, dropped that down, too. He straddled the five-bar gate & … Continue reading The Night Was Teal.