The Tidal Surge

 

 

From an unofficial sound within

Perpetual motion of recurring dream

Where nothing make sense without that a…

Pause

And all the while

While overplayed as forever is

I was noticed travelling hazardously

On a tidal surge

Leaping frantically

From debris to ever flaking debris

As to be floating somewhere still.

It was endless

And then it was a sunset morning

With no time to kill.

 

 

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The Ditch and the Den

The repetitive patterns in the winter leaves made Clarke feel like he was playing on a carpet; from a once forgotten lounge.
Swallowed by the forest, the air felt milder; an invisible, unscented smoke hovered high above the refrigerated mince of woodland soil.
On the ‘Otherside’ (from beyond the ditch) were perfect branches and twigs a plenty; perfect for finishing the greatest den.

Clarke jumped into the ditch whole-heartedly, a ditch created by the landing of a clumsy giants arm, and he disappeared toe to head in the deepest, softest patch of leaves imaginable.

Miraculously, Clarke discovered he was on the ‘otherside’. Standing there, looking on at his parents; they seemed statuesque in their mid stretch and bend to collect their woody additions.

‘Mum… Dad?’ He called out to them nervously. 

They couldn’t hear him or see him, for they may as well of been painted on canvas and hung as stillife in a hallway.

Clarke panicked, and jumped into the very same patch of leaves.

Relief immediately surged through Clarke’s small frame… He felt he was somewhere safe after all. Clarke ran like a bouncing, rolling jack to his parents who continued to forage with renewed vigor.

The Last Moon on the Left (excerpt)

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The bizarre kettle-shaped spaceship, suddenly turns off its powerful engine of raging bubbles. Now, both young boys listen intensly, to the slow, muted, thud of footsteps… from the creepy bottom step… to the agonisingly close and creaky top step of the stairs.

But it’s soon after those footsteps stop, after the deathly silence they create, when something that sounds as light as a balloon, and travelling in the unnatural breeze of the night; bumps innocently light, then mysteriously heavier (again and again) onto the exposed floorboards of the landing.

Luke (the younger ) suddenly remembers that in the most recent past, he had found ‘the landing’ very confusing, because nothing that he was aware of… until now, had ever landed there.