“A Season’s Breath” by Turi Ekirapa
I can’t sleep. Deep breath in. Boredom has hit me like a speck of bird poop that I can’t shake off. I’m doing that thing …
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
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I can’t sleep. Deep breath in. Boredom has hit me like a speck of bird poop that I can’t shake off. I’m doing that thing …
Privacy. Who doesn’t want privacy? Even if you’ve sold off half your property to a persistent developer intending to put up twenty “McMansions” on it, …
Even without a caress its petals wait, try more red than usual then sweets, sent along with the scent from the latest hillside till one …
I speak- Of climbing trees, and, of being terrified, but jumping, ‘fifteen feet!’ onto the brown mound beneath, momentarily and relationally also jumping through a …
The rain cut me a river wide enough to savour my numbered gardens— each with their own cloud. And in each I bred a different …