Job

Her job is meaningless and she does not have the strength to lurch to another one. She flops on the sofa, entangles her thoughts, watches one film or another, cavorts with the notion of another life, swtiches the tv off and goes to sleep.

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

fog

Fog, cold, a coat, gloves, walks apace, the bench empty, she sits down for a while, then gets up, curses, and arrives for work.

Light

 

Light scarce, horizon undermined, the gloom settles: a fair assesment of her life.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Exhale

Exhale. The air alive, fireflys. She reaches the window, the panes translucid, but they are not there anymore.

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

Sniff

They can sniff your foreignness, you don’t need to open your mouth, they know. They sneer and you know you are a frog from another pond never quite here. She goes out only at night, when the shadows merge the living with the dead.