Running Away

INT, afternoon.

Paulie: Has it stopped ringing now?

Kerry: It comes and goes. At night it’s worse. My jaw hurts when I swallow. At least I should lose some bloody weight now.

Paulie: Sometimes he hits me hard, too. Continue reading “Running Away”

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The Forest

You feel safe as you traipse alone, drunkenly, from the road into the first fair branches of the forest. Only the moon, rapier silver, lights your way, as you wend through trees to that familiar clearing. At peace in this now-still scene of teenage fumblings, you sweep cigarette butts to the edge with your boots. You build a small fire, set it burning with your second-last match, and hunker down, pulling jacket and blanket round you into oblivion. Continue reading “The Forest”

Old Spice and Cigarette Scented

At last Dad came home, while we were in school, and that evening we were each allowed a few minutes in his room.

Purple.

A face turned purple.

Mottled and bubbled and lumpen, one eye closed like a boxer’s.

An ogre, a brute, a fairytale monster.

Underneath was my Dad.

Still strong, with hard hands, and black, wavy hair. Continue reading “Old Spice and Cigarette Scented”