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Weeding – Part One
My Son is missing, but I have a feeling I know where he is. That sounds ridiculous, so allow me to explain. I don’t know his location, or the address, but I know where he’ll be. I know who he’s with. It’s those people. Those sick, sick people. They’ve got my Andrew. I’ve told the…
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A Portrait Of My Motherhood, From The Perspective Of My Long Suffering First Born
7am, she was my alarm, loud lullabies at the wrong time of day, her voice following the melody of the clattering kitchen as I followed the smell of toast to the table. She had my school tie in her hands, throwing it to hands that were too tired to catch as her wife watched the…
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Mum
I was an early birthday present,presented after the fog of the anaesthetic had fallen away,tiny hands reaching for the only friend I had known, in the nine months I had been baking,longing for the fond familiarity of a mother’s mighty embrace. The blessed daughter of the vernal equinox,to be born of your light was a…
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The Last Thing He Said, In Silence
The last thing he said, in silence,was that my love was not enough for him to depend on.In the echoes of an empty hallway,his shadow, dancing in the distance,he was so clear, that he couldn’t give it all up for me. He used to carry me with him,like a lucky penny,or the hip flask full…