The Eye

It wasn’t black. 

But yellows, violets and peacock blue.

Adorning an eye staring at me. Was this snappy-suited commuter, the aggressor or innocent party? I peg him for a mugging victim and ooze pity. Then I notice frenzied scabs across every knuckle and make sure we alight at different exits.

What goes around…

Before (they knew) the world was round, Hernandez quested to sail furthest West. Kissing farewell to his beautiful Mariana, she wept saltless tears. When Hernandez returned unexpectedly from the East, they believed him to be a devil and burned him.

Now they’re readying the fires, as the world flattens again.


The word ‘ebb’ itself feels eroded. Like my once opulent patience or my once abundant temper. Like my hairline. Ebbing. Ever further. Like my days remaining. Like friendships that stood as great cliffs, now feeding oceans. Ever decaying. The innocuous, innocent ebb evolving into the black hole of all things.

His Last Words

I won’t be a minute”, he said, slamming the front door.

By 11pm she’d called the police, having exhausted all possibilities. They searched. Nothing.

His credit card untouched for the next four years before expiring.

They’d been so happy, she thought, but she’d never escape those (now) ambiguous last words.

The Notes

She never thought she’d understand the notes; cried for months before trying. He’d bequeathed the apartment, funds, (even land), but 21 notes (handwrapped) remained unexplained. He’d loved her, she knew that. But here came emptiness. Years passed before she heard Vera Lynn sing the inimitable. And those notes rang out.