Selkie Shores'You're from the mainland, aye?' the fisherman said. 'I'll tell you one of Orkney's legends.'
'Oh aye?'
'Ever heard of selkies?'
'Tell me.'
'Mermaids, lass,' the fisherman said. 'Nae the fish-tailed women of the deep, mind. They're here on our very shores. You see, selkie means -'
'Seal,' she said. 'I know. Go on.'
'Well, lass, beneath the skins of each seal is a beautiful woman. If one sheds her skin, and a lad finds it and hides it, she has to marry him.'
She laughed. 'Och, away with you!'
''Tis true, lass.'
'Why wouldn't the selkie do anything about it?'
'She cannae find her skin,' said the fisherman, 'and she cannae return to the sea without it.'
'Does she even bother to look for it?'
''Tis generally the bairns that find her skin. Then she leaves her human family for the sea.'
'She must be weak-willed indeed to have this fellow's children.'
'They are weak-willed beings.'
'What about the bull seals?' she asked. 'The men?'
T
It's a... You DecideThe doctor said, 'You might: raise it as a boy; raise it as a girl; raise it as nothing in particular and see how it develops; or raise it as a popular attraction.'
The farmer and his wife had a lot of talking to do. A girl would be useful for keeping the house, and never leave it as the others would. She could not be married, of course. A spinster living with her parents and then her brother (who was still to come) would not be thought odd. People would ask for her hand, but reasons to refuse could be found. After all, they had no shortage of daughters.
It was a son they needed. If it were a boy, no one would ask to marry him. They might wonder why he did not take a wife, but that was all right. Lots of men were unmarried. An unmarried man was more respectable than an unmarried woman. Of course, men must work. What if this child had neither strength to work the land nor intelligence to run the business? The farm might g
Intelligent Zombies'If you challenge him, you get me.'
Catie stared at him. It took her a long time to answer. Eventually she said, 'We're soldiers, Doc. We don't want you!'
They were standing on the roof of the research building, one in a lab coat and one in camouflage. They looked down on the facility's well kept garden, fenced off from what was left of their world, and was Catie's world still.
'How typical,' said Dr Love. 'Just what I should have expected from the kill first, ask questions later camp. You could really use someone with my brains out there, young Catherine. How do you hope to end this madness if you're only adding to it with your senseless violence?'
'Dr Love,' said Catie. 'You wouldn't last five minutes “out there”. I mowed down fifty zombies to get over here, and now you tell me it's because you can't control one of your own! How do you expect me to take you seriously?'
Dr Love looked sheepish.
'He's not hu
Burning BrightLife is lousy if you're not top cat. You get off your mama's teat straight onto a slippery slope. Top of the food chain, am I? Well, I'll tell you about the food chain.
Buffalo, asses, monkeys, all kinds of deer, right? Right. Ripe for the picking, right? Wrong. Even if there's plenty of those jokers around, everything's after them. Vultures, wild dogs, snakes, leopards, us. The lions stick to their own turf. They know any of us could rip out their throats faster than a cobra could spit in their eye. But the others? Sure, if they're all scrapping over a carcass, along comes a tiger and they all scram. The tiger gets the goods. But that tiger's always got to be top cat, see?
My sisters went to find places where the water's cool and the grass'll hide your hide while your meal's taking a meal. Those are good places, where once a year the top cat comes round, leaves with a bellyful of meat and leaves
The Little Time TravelerIt was his masterpiece; a simple cardboard box created by a little boy's imagination. As a canvas for his markers, colorful lines swirled along the sides. Each line told a story of excitement and adventure: thrilling times for a little boy and his ever faithful companion. He held Teddy in his arms, knowing his friend's purpose took much care to achieve; his protector from terrible evils.
Lively blue eyes glanced at the fuzzy friend as a big grin was plastered on the little boy's face. The things they had seen on their journeys, defied everything the world had tried to teach them to believe, but they maintained they were too young to believe the world's words. They just wanted to explore the universe for themselves.
Gathering himself up, he sat Teddy down in a chair and made his way to his closet. Sifting through the shirts and trousers, he found his travel clothes and presents them to Teddy; a brown newsboy cap, pants, and shoes with a plaid bow-tie and suspenders. He also found Teddy&
Being His MomBig blue eyes watch the world around them with an innocent curiosity. A little boy in a constant state of learning sights and sounds all so new and intriguing. He points and babbles as people walk by, having an imaginary conversation with everyone. He lives in his own little world, surrounded by the interactions of another beyond his comprehension. While some pause briefly to listen to his attempt to communicate, others choose to stop and comment on his appearance and actions.<da:thumb id="522968178"/>
"What a little charmer," one would say.
"Look at those big blue eyes...and red hair!" Another would exclaim.
He would flash a big smile after each compliment, making it seem like he knew they were talking about him. The doctor says he doesn't understand, but I know he does. He knows more than we think he does. It just comes out a little at a time rather than all at once.
For myself, I simply smile and nod, knowing everything they say is just a reiteration of what I already know. My son, a true blessing, is
Not Like This Thunder pounded through the clouds; fading echoes lingered beyond the initial clap. The skies opened, and rain poured, drenching everything. A reprieve was far from sight; the greyness was here to stay, much to the disdain of many.
A long figure made its way, unseen, down a single pathway. His hat sat crooked on grey hairs while water rushed steadily off its brim. The coat draped over his shoulders, was not a safe haven from the wetness to which it had succumbed. No one was around to observe the sad and lonely man, something he was glad for at this moment.
He shuffled along, bent and broken with sorrow. His heart, fallen from his chest, was heavy on his feet. Thoughts weighed on his mind; emotions, of the emotions he could feel, swirled in a chaotic knot of unfathomable pain. A day did not pass without the feeling of utter loss; the pain of a depression so deep, no light could be seen from its depths.
Death stones loomed abo
I Can, I Will, I Have Done“You can’t.”
That’s how it started. A boy, a girl and the words, “You can’t”.
With her mother having died from pneumonia, only six months earlier, Suzie arrived at her 21st birthday realising little else had changed in her life. Her sole purpose was now to keep the house in order, an ordeal which started before dawn and ended way after her father and brother had gone to bed. There was bread to bake, grocery shopping to do, cleaning, cooking; the list was endless and she collapsed into bed at night for a fitful few hours sleep grabbed between her loads of work.
“Why was I born different ma?” She spoke to her mother as if she was there listening. “Why was I born like you, with the female body parts? All I want is to be like Phillip – he can run about, he can vote for change, a change that doesn’t affect me so much as him and father.” A small tear trickled down her cheek. “I’m clever too ma, smarter
MotherMother
10-8-15
Coming home from work, needing coffee and a pee,
You enter with dogs soon about your ankles, they run and come to me.
“She’s here!” They say it louder, than sleeping bodies like to hear,
But I smile as I turn over; you are safe and you are near.
I can’t say I’m a talker, in fact I’m the reverse,
So much so that trying to talk with me must seem like quite a curse.
But you try, you always have, and you gloss over silent shy,
For you take my shell and hide it from me ‘till at least I’ve tried.
There were times when I reddened cheeks by actions bold but wrong,
And times I curse at siblings; for I’m stubborn and headstrong.
But you see through my skull to the heart that lies within
And through love inch out my truer self using needles and some pins.
And if we were both handcuffed, guns forcing us to choose,
I’d tell them to spare the drama; take me in place of you.
Totally AloneTotally Alone
20-8-15
Silence lurks around the corner like a curious cat.
It chases itself into loud rooms
And lingers like a fart in life’s nostrils;
When all you want is quiet contemplation
Silence steals the show.
It’s in the sound of breathing deceased,
A fan no longer fanning
And a circuit no longer circuiting.
Silence molests you like a paedophile taking chances
And sneaks up on you like a stalker’s photographic instinct.
So I play music to abuse the silence.
In the quiet of the night,
When there are only hums, snores and sighs,
I can sleep.
But the quiet of 2 a.m. is different to the all surpassing silence that settles
When you are totally alone.
Another Year Has PassedAnother Year Has Passed
20-8-15
I missed your birthday this year, on purpose.
I find that if I celebrate it each year I’m thought of as weird;
Hanging on, not grieving properly, or somesuch nonsense.
But i remember deep inside the day you were supposed to be born;
Five days after my birthday and eleven after your father’s.
Happy birthday little one, happy birthday little son.
I love you dearly, always will. I loved you then and love you still.
I remember best the day you left, and how I felt, lost and bereft,
So happy birthday little boy, I hope you’re bringing heaven joy.
You were like a bulb planted roots up – no chance to properly grow a foundation in life –
And I, the stubborn soil, didn’t realise.
So each year you grow a year older in death as I grow one in life,
And I wonder still; was it my fault? Was it God’s? Was it ‘his’?
But I remember deep inside, the day you died, and the day you were meant to live.