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Likes singing and making stuff.

Story part suggestions by Cathy

Submitted on June 5, 2024 at 12:20 pm

Nothing. There’s nothing there. But I know I have to go to where the noise is. Somehow I drag my body along the floor, still crawling, even on raw knees. I should try to stand but it’s too much.My hands need to search my path, contact with the floor feels safer somehow. Silence. Silence is louder than a scream.

Submitted on May 4, 2024 at 9:02 am

The blistering heat that shot through my eyelids as I tried to squeeze them shut forced them open again. It was almost a relief.

Submitted on April 24, 2024 at 10:42 pm

It was the woman from the book shop who broke the silence. Joshua, Evelyn,
Zachary and I looked at her. Only our eyes moved, our bodies could not be trusted to remain under our control. Only our eyes though, everyone else’s remained trained on us. Grandma then met the speaker’s eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod, as if to say, “go on…”

Submitted on April 17, 2024 at 11:20 am

Our appearance evokes fascination. Strangers feel they can comment on it, point it out to us. Any person who has a ‘difference’ knows about it and doesn’t need to be told, thank you very much. We are rare though, and many stories have been told to try to make sense of us. Ancient European traditions believed we had the ability to see into the future. Others celebrated our ‘ghost eyes’ that allowed us to see into heaven and earth at the same time. Even today, some spiritualist folklore reveres our ‘heightened intuition ‘.

Submitted on April 10, 2024 at 10:44 am

The truth was Mum had hated that teapot. And here’s grandma cradling it lovingly as though it might be the glue that binds us. “Your mother would have wanted…” When did you start to care what mother wanted? It was an effort, but Lucy kept her face straight and her thoughts to herself as she trailed behind them.

Submitted on April 1, 2024 at 6:55 pm

“I’m not going in. You lot do what you like but I’ve seen enough.” Cold stiff fingers touched her arm as she tried to take a step back. It was a light touch, but she felt unable to move.

Submitted on March 26, 2024 at 1:20 pm

Behind a long slim table stood an anonymous youth in a beige apron. He kept his eyes lowered respectfully, he believed, as he served hot drinks from an enormous chrome urn into identical white cups. Not a cracked teapot in sight. And when did Grandma start wearing her hair like that?

Submitted on March 18, 2024 at 10:13 am

An hour ago, they’d known exactly what to expect. Grandma would be laying out cups and saucers for the mourners. The teapot with the cracked spout would make an appearance. But here they were.

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