Tag Archives: wishes

The Space Between

The Space Between

The space between

Dark blue and black

Differing shades of forever

Where pointing fingers linger

And eyes do blink

The stuff of dreams gathering

Like nocturnal memories

No lights required

Just open minds

Stardust and magic

Little parcels of eternity

Destiny and hope

Children praying for shooting stars

Adults too

Never has nothing held such value

Here, dwelling in held breaths

And wishes

We wait

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Water’s Edge (A Sunday View)


Today was a bad day before I'd even finished my coffee, (that's not good). So, after a run not clearing my brain, the next best thing was a walk to the river.
In truth, where I live the river is more estuary than actual waterway. Over a mile wide, the Humber is at its best on a clear, sunny day where the wind remains strong. The results are pictures like the one above.
The wonderful Neil Gaiman wrote about 'The Ocean at the End of the Lane', a great book by the way. This is my real life version ' the estuary at the end of the path'. It's not quite as magical but it does the trick.
Sometimes all you need to remind yourself of the important things is a view. I'd like a few more mountains, but beggars can't be choosers.

I hope your own weekends contains some magical sights too.

Richard
Richard M. Ankers
Author of The Eternals Series
The Eternals
Hunter Hunted
Into Eternity (Very Soon!)

50 Word Stories: Unwished For

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She swept across the meadow in bouquets of death. The snowdrops, my favourites, turned black, the early daffodils wilted in grey. She entered my yard without asking and took my hands; I didn’t want to go. Lady Death cajoled me against my wishes. I’d so hoped to stay at home.

50 Word Stories: The Mongrel

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The dog followed me home even though I peddled faster. It loped along barely panting as I huffed and puffed, a long-haired mongrel with a lolling tongue. He looked like Luke before the war took him. I loved that dog and told him so, as I should've done my brother.

The Drowned and the Drowning

She stood in a puddle in the centre of the bridge, her umbrella blown inside out. Perhaps the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen, she was also the most bedraggled. Other people stomped on by spraying water in all directions, some workers, some spenders, some lovers, some freaks and not one offered her help.
The girl, forlorn to the point of devastated, brushed aside auburn locks that swept straight back into her alabaster face and wept. Like a naiad, she looked to haunt the puddle she stood in unable to move away, unwilling to leave, too sad to even raise her head. Somehow, it seemed more than a bad day, worse than the weather, an accumulation of that thing we call life and she just couldn’t take anymore.
I had to do something. Pivotal moments are few and far between in life, always important, and I feared if she went unaided the girl might never recover.
This was my time. So, I concentrated with all my might just as the others had taught me and tapped her on her jacketed shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
She snapped from her trance like a fish before a shark, looked right through me, screamed and ran.
It made me glad to scare her so, to make her realise there were worse things in life. That jumping wasn’t the answer.
I wished someone had done that for me.