#deathly
Her sticky veil is studded with husks of flies and broken spider legs. Shreds of silk waft into mist as she glides the aisle of St. Barnard's; she should have been a bride once. Only the grooms see her now, that deathly grin as she beckons them with a bony finger.
#desert
Sun-baked grains, desert gold, shift across my feet like sidewinders and scuttle beneath my soles. I carry them between my toes as the sun arcs. In the distance, a dark chain: sagging necks, bobbing heads, bongo feet, knotted legs, steps as hypnotic as a metronome.
#defenestration
He manhandled his nuisance of a mother to the open window. 'A tragic accident'. No one would suspect defenestration. But he had underestimated her strength. As he fell towards the gravel, he heard her whiny voice for the last time.
'Gerald. I'm ready for my breakfast!'
Drive Home
Marcie was lost in thought... regret. Seeing her old room had brought it all back, the teen abortion hinted at over dinner.
The clunking forced her to stop.
She opened the boot.
Knees bent, hunched, twin girls in scraggy white dresses were reaching out to her.
'Mama.'
#debut
There was a first time for everything, but this was not his debut sculpture. Creating the detail had been emotional, but the likeness to his dead wife's face was uncanny.
It was, however, the first time a piece of clay had blinked and uttered the words, 'I miss you.'
#doodle
At the psychiatrist's suggestion, they covered Bobby's walls in paper.
'Just draw your fears and the night terrors will stop,' they told him.
Saturday morning, they were aghast at the mysterious intricate patterns.
'Feeling better, Bobby?'
'I didn't draw them,' he said.
#dangerous and #death
'Feral', the locals called them, 'should be at school', but Mammy and Daddy said it hadn't harmed them. Wasn't dangerous.
'Stretch for it!' Mammy called up.
The scarf, and Jimmy, were wrapped around the pylon, while Mammy stood by the sign warning of death.