C.C.

Wartime. I can account for shop windows as flashes of merchandise. When I was hungry for sweetness and variety there were no supplies. I searched the dull strip-covered windows for a forgotten treasure The cardboard cones of ice cream seemed to add to my despair. Boxes of imitation chocolate shapes... Sign in to see full entry.

Shopping bags. The plastic bag takes off and has a noisy duel with the rusty railings. No one wins; the wind sends the bag twisting down the pavement. It had scored a good innings, for all its little quirks and failings. It said on the side (forever,) but nothing about (the owner’s consent). It made... Sign in to see full entry.

Roses. The breeze ruffles the pink roses, it is so familiar. They were sad lips, stained with a pastel colour. And now I have to wonder who you are. Sensations flutter like ribbons over a marble floor. One of a thousand thoughts that strayed into the mist, hesitated. And you were reconstructed as... Sign in to see full entry.

Secrets. Two stockings cross, one must suspect. the enchantment captured in the net. With dignity to save just choose to concentrate on tasteless shoes. Present a single flower to rouse latent thoughts beneath the blouse. What a horrid little beast. A simple thought, the skirt is creased. It seems... Sign in to see full entry.

The Pink Hat. It was unusual; the face beneath the hat became sweeter; taking shape in the filtered sunshine as if belonging to laughter. Teasing with expressions that were inclined to claim that they really were there all the time and it was a shame, they had only been noticed after the appraisal... Sign in to see full entry.

Small fry Ironically small is harder to test for this exercise. I try as I looked down into a stream. A small fish moves in and out of reeds; bubbles rise. Those tiny eyes make everything seem normal. There is movement; the blob perceived as a delicacy is approached swiftly; the mouth opens. A flick... Sign in to see full entry.

Personal. I would like to withdraw from your contemplating glance. Do not try to look interested, my hope has often risen on the merest whim It is like a pigeon’s chest, inflated, always cooing for a favourable chance. It would be wise to remember my shifty ways and my lack of reasoning. In the... Sign in to see full entry.

On Hold. If I had forgotten it was because you were sunshine. Why can I feel your warmth when I should feel sorrow? Freshly you laugh and I can feel your hand in mine. It is all so clear, I remember it now. Your smile was just a warm expression of sadness. There was only a hidden beauty and I... Sign in to see full entry.

Potato Pickers In the wet grass where we searched for a shilling. Shiny eyes rooting deep into the brown roots around our scuffed boots, which were soaked to the cardboard filling. The memory of receiving wages one shilling and a pound. Three boys, three days and a thousand tons of potato picking.... Sign in to see full entry.

Promises. Delving into the scrawl of unwise commitments, they adorn pale walls and flickered once. Now all is still; darkened by age, although sentiment lasts longer than flowers. Optimistically there is no thought of vengeance. Hopefully all promises have faded into oblivion. The little hooks were... Sign in to see full entry.