‘Shooting stars’, by Marion Michell

Worst days pain ricochets like shooting stars with pinball crushes. Oh the love! Releases fiery goo when ramming rib, tooth, bone. Skull reels alone; body razed by frequent flyer flares, flags pushed here there, declaring consternation zones. Each smart begets another, emulates, and brass bands march in new-laid grooves, playing their loudest, most discordant tunes. […]

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‘Nothing’, by Una Sombra

I am in the centre of nothing. Nothing cushions me. Nothing protects me I am comfortable surrounded by nothing Nothing is nice and kind and gentle. I am nobody in nothing I am special in nothing Nothing matters in nothing Nothing is everything I am nothing Nothing touches me I touch nothing Nothing moves me […]

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‘A Double Etheree on Living with M.E.’, by Linda Cosgriff

A man is ill. Whispered recollections of what he once was are all that sustain him.  He has no hope. His aching visions of what should have been kill comfort. What could have been is a lie.  He has no hope. He has no future. He has only now. Life took revenge for a life […]

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