Month: August 2017

The Basement : a short fiction as prose

he descends
each stone step
colder than the last
upon his bare feet
the warmth
of August sunrise
is bitterest winter dusk
for here
live memories
the scurrying things
damp hurrying things
within its dark cold walls
and cracked ceiling
that he’s never
been able to face
until today

The Themepark of Recollection

walking expectantly
through turnstiles
of reminiscence
each event
dripping neon
the perfume
of candyfloss
and stale beer
a kiss, a kick
a rumble
a fumble
sighs of passion
and regret
all indistinguishable
with time
each attraction
either sanitised
perhaps dramatised
to remain memorable
after visiting
so many yesterdays
roller coasting
through queues
that go on
almost forever
others broken
beyond repair
soon to be forgotten
and demolished
to make way
for tomorrows.