Another attempt at drawing some ink, some sound from this winged whiteness. Extracting black blood vital fluid from the soul and she is...

despite the pain I still wish to re member You piece your photograph back from the ashes I hold in my cold hands despite the sadness I...

With secret pleasure and pain she imagines the act of writing: with the eye of her mind she sees herself perched on the small chair in...

“Are we automata / Or Angel-kin?” (Byatt, 1991, p.273) wonders R. H. Ash in A.S. Byatt’s masterpiece Possession. This central dilemma...

There was a moment When we were not Creeping back into warm holes of fantasy And breathing words to each other There were White, neat...

During the last years of his life, my granddad took up the hobby of painting. He would spend hours bent on a wooden desk, an expression...

When I look back, I remember the world as much smaller. Perhaps that is because the pain that bit into everything after your death is...

I wore my favourite black dress that night – I still remember it vividly if I try hard enough. I’d bought it at the fair one Sunday with...

Don’t worry, you were still soundly asleep when it happened. Your eyelids were closed softly and you looked unperturbed, almost...