and through the fire
she will come for me
slowly, safely, surely
to snatch me up
out of the flames
these townsfolk have set for me
and take me away
to a heaven
free from hate
and from these men
and women
made alike in their fear
__________
Notes:
1. Written in February 2020
__________“…and when the wolf clamped its jaws around my the leg and began to drag me back through the snow, I didn’t struggle, nor did I scream. I simply closed my eyes and hoped, prayed, that its home would be better than my own.”
__________
Notes:
1. Written in February 2020
__________There’s a reason I don’t go out there on nights like these.
Listen! You can hear them, can’t you? Streaming down from the hills and out of the woods, running through the streets, the dirty dogs, those mongrel wolves. A great big howling pack of them, chasing the foxes and the sheep, the chickens and rabbits. The cats and the crows. The fearless, the fearful.
And on moonlit nights like tonight, my sister runs with them and they do as she says.
__________
Notes:
1. Written in February 2020
__________The wind blew through the town and across the beach with such ferocity that where it met the sea the waves broke backwards, the spume sparkling in the air as it flew out towards wherever it was the waves themselves were born.
Whenever we left the safety of our houses we chained ourselves to the railings, so even when the wind blew us off our feet we would not be blown out to sea with the spume, would not be sucked beneath the waves, down into the depths, down there, where the mermaids that birthed us still circled and swam, still sighed, still sang.
__________
Notes:
1. Written in February 2020
__________Once upon a time a king and queen lived in their castle, and tended to their selves, while in their gardens the peasants slept in tents, and tended to their trees.
In the spring an ill wind blew, and the castle closed its gate, and while those within the castle waited quietly until it had passed, those outside were left to fend for themselves.
Autumn came, and the fruit fell from those forgotten trees. In the coming weeks it rotted in the sun, until the whole land choked beneath the stench of putrefaction. But by then there were none to smell it, and all was silent, except for the rustling of the wind in the leaves.
Or so the story goes.
__________
Notes:
1. Written in March 2020
__________