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A Venetian Cemetery

A Venetian Cemetery

I pause at the sign that is posted by the entrance. I try to imagine the kind of person that would interrupt a funeral-in-progress. This, along with eating, drinking, taking photographs and sitting on the grass, is prohibited on Isola di San Michele: Venice’s island cemetery. 

Beneath the Innocent Child in Prayer

I wrote this as a competition entry this month. The brief was to write about the discovery of a dead body for any type of character. It was inspired by a morning I spent at the Lady Lever Gallery. There was a meditator but the rest is fiction…

A new project

I can feel the enthusiasm bubble up through my chest and into my cheekbones. I rub my hands together and clasp them close to my beaming face. I burble and chirrup with excitement as I scribble notes about how I’m going to do it and what the steps will be.

The Handkerchief

The Handkerchief

“Hands, hands, handkerchief!” The woman demands in a Scottish accent. She’s standing next to the chocolate brown painted hand-rail at the top of the stairs and blocking the route down.

Messing about in water

Messing about in water

An honourable mention in this month’s writing challenge. The challenge was 250 words featuring something to do with water…

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