ON SIMPLICITY IN WRITING

  I like a thing simple but it must be simple through complication. Everything must come into your scheme, otherwise you cannot achieve real simplicity. Stein as an advocacy of simplicity is a little paradoxical. This is the woman that wrote lines like, “A feather is trimmed, it is trimmed by the light and the…

Stories in Short #16 (When I was Ten)

When I was ten I found my big brother crying on the stairs. I asked him what was wrong but he looked up at me in shock like I’d caught him masturbating and scrambled up the stairs, to the room I was never meant to enter. I told my Mum. She said that boys cry,…

Stories in Short #14 (Marathon of forgetting)

via the Daily Prompt – I pull on my shoes to forget. They’re white, with orange stripes down the side, and have thick soles and red-and-blue alternating laces. When I put them on I lose myself. I sprint down the street to warm up, and I count my breaths, measure my heartbeat, hold the bottle of…

Stories in Short #13 (Exquisite: intensely felt.)

via Daily Prompt “I just went around it twice, but without twisting the strip, I just went around twice, but didn’t twist the strip, look, see.” The class nods homogeneously. Mr. Tokida pauses, the ring of paper held up in his left hand, because he can hear a scuffling in the corridor. His pupils look…

Stories in Short #12 (Capable of change)

via the Daily Prompt – It’s morning and the snow is hidden in the shadow of the house. Everything is still, silent, piercingly so, my ears are ringing with the roar of a far-off airplane. Upstairs I know my daughter is sleeping, and in the car, my wife is jumbled on the back seat, asleep,…

Old lovers on the train

“I’m anxious.”   I know you are.   I walk behind you because if I walked in front of you you’d lose me and you’d get angry.   There’s no point trying to negotiate. You think about the children, not you and I.   Maybe it’s because you’re divorced, guilty, you keep me out all…

Stories in Short #11 (Daily Prompt: Gone)

“Close your eyes, son.” The young man closed his eyes. “Take a deep breath.” The young man did. “You are stood on the walls of our city, our home. Beneath your feet is the bulwark of our people, stone built higher and higher, mortar mixed with the blood and tears of our woman, our children. Our…