A man stands watching the horizon waiting for sunset on the anniversary of his wife’s death.
Azure blue suffused with emeralds. Sea or land, sea on ‘scape. Radiance skipping over the surface penetrating, penetrating the void.
Sensation of moving standing still. Changing visions predicting the future. An orb rolls in the influence counting in microseconds.
Cold immensity so severe for aeons. Textural tendrils that tug and suck you down, fortune lost. Calmed at this late hour being both ground and vistas.
Sweating, sweetened salinated that expands over aqueous fields. The hot red shudders in the bosom. Guts all a flutter. Liquid forms before corneas.
Joints absorb this frigidity hamstrung and hands stung. Not long now, matter pulsating.
Duty observed, honour restored, guilt assuaged. For years bereft of Cecelia. Gloriana blessed Celestial majesty.
How Much the Heart Can Hold edited by Emma Herdman - review by Maryom Last week I was out at a book event the theme of which was the short story, and by pure coincidence my first review this week is of a sho...
3 days ago