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Fairweather Friends

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. 

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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

Mug

It’s tattooed across my forehead. You can’t see it. It’s in some special ink but it glows whenever he is around like the trails left by bees and ants near a tasty snack or a particularly fertile wildflower meadow. Invisible to the human eye, it sends out a clear message to him. “Come on here, she’s ripe to swallow your honeyed crap today; drop your best line and wait.” I fall for it every time.


Paragraph Planet 16.4.17

Four things

He needed four things, he said. “You, me, a bed and a day.” It sounded simple, but she knew better. Even if they could find a day, there would be no bed. And she wasn’t fooling herself. They could barely manage an hour together before he was called away. A whole day was a pipe dream. Still, it was a lovely dream, so she allowed herself to believe in it, just for a little while.

Talking…

Conversation. This is how it goes; I say something, then you say something. Ideally the thing you say would be related to the thing I said, but it’s possible that you’d respond with something random. The key then would be for me to absorb it and bounce it back to you, building a rally of somethings between us. Otherwise it’s just me batting words against a wall and that’s not a conversation, that’s a monologue. 

It’s a while since I had something on Paragraph Planet though to be fair it’s a while since I submitted too. This was dashed off in frustration at various people who either never respond or just never really listen… It was featured on the website on Sat 7th Jan 2017.

Some days

​Some days the noise was too much , voices fighting to be heard over the top of each other, demanding her attention: a cacophony of need. Each one had its own particular pain and she felt them all, from the slightest needle prick to the heart-wrenching shudders. She felt her heart would break with it. And then there were the days when the voices sang. Glorious happy days. On those days she loved the voices. 

Paragraph Planet Aug 25th 2016

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