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paper

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Peter folded the paper, carefully aligning the edges, and slowly scored the crease with his thumb nail. His gaze focused somewhere off in the distance as he absently tapped the paper with his forefinger. Tap. Tap. Tap. The movement and sound seemed to pull him back to the present. He looked at the paper, tapped it again – tap, tap, tap – then tucked it carefully into his pocket. Time later to deal with that, he thought.

Paragraph Planet 17.10.2018

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Presence

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Heating on
Duvet up to my chin.
Cat curled sleeping
Peaceful, beside me.
Sudden coldness
Lifts hairs.
A step on my grave.
A ghost passing by.

#micropoetry #napowrimo18

Fairweather Friends

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Fairweather friend. I am not your fairweather friend. I am your foul weather friend. I am your friend for the dark days, the stormy days; the days when you roar and stamp and everyone else runs for cover. Not for me the days of sunshine and sweet talk. On those days I am sidelined, shunned. On those days my presence is too painful. I disturb the peace of your sushine days with my stormy memories.

Paragraph Planet, Nov 9th 2017

Tweaked it slightly.

Taste

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Disappointment rises, 

burning like bile 

in her throat,

curdling hope.

She chokes it down 

and turns 

and smiles.
#microprompt #taste

Water

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Water was everywhere. Running from over flowing gutters, streaming slick-like down brick walls and fences. The drains had given up long since, throwing back the water in fountains of protest. It pooled into puddles on saturated lawns. A gust of air sent a drum roll of droplets across the polytunnel. Be careful what you wish for, Granny used to say, you might just get it. Who had wished for rain for the garden, she wondered?


Submitted PP July ’17

Clown

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I begged you not to clown around.

You said it was impossible. “Clowning around is just who I am”, you said.

I laughed, and took the proffered balloons. How could I not?

three line tales

Fire and Water

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Wailing, roaring, burning and hissing, leaping shadows, reckless in his rage, he hurtled down.

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