I watch, impatient.
Ripples from her booted foot
Pull her out of time.
How does it work?
Wonderful ♥
Aw, this is kinda lovely. Brilliant stuff, Hannah!
More stories from Hannah Moore and writers in Poets and other communities.
On Tuesdays, I bring you fresh battered fish. Its not Friday, I know, but you do not. On Saturday I read you crossword clues.
By Hannah Moore3 years ago in Poets
“Eight,” I announce when Heidi asks, “What’s today’s number?” Everyone else is confused. But I know she means the digit
By Tina D. Lopez2 days ago in Poets
Do you know how much blood we shed Involuntarily, grief, loss, life, by the ounces. Or how much blood pours out of us,
By Oneg In The Arctic4 days ago in Poets
It was a miserable day. It had been a miserable for a month and Peggy, the old doddery woman, waited at the bus stop in the pouring rain.
By Elizabeth Butler3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Wonderful ♥
Aw, this is kinda lovely. Brilliant stuff, Hannah!