“Tyabb!” I called. I live in a quite small unit but I do have a tendency for being untidy and there can be a bit of clutter now and then. “Tyabb! !” Nothing. Bear wandered in to the room. “Are you looking for Tyabb because he’s not here.” “What do you mean he’s not here?” “He went for a walk around the block and said … Continue reading Tyabb meets Rakky
It stood there waiting. Or maybe trees don’t wait. They just stand. But then the leaves started to shake and quiver with excitement. Look out boys and girls, the tree said. Here comes the wind. The boughs stood up straight but the leaves bent and showed me the way the wind had gone. They all stood still. Is that it? I asked. … Continue reading The wind tree.
I live on a street. Behind a tall grey fence. Only the people who know me know I am there. The fence is not of my choosing. There are children who live on the street, but between them and me is the fence. I have sent some friends out to greet them but I doubt if they will let me know. This is the fence … Continue reading Trust and the little folk.
For Elouise. I am weary in my bones in my joints in my fingers and sometimes, just sometimes in my heart. I must accept my weariness, and not allow it to stop the things I still can do, the things I need to do. Still. Maybe tomorrow. I wrote this after reading the latest from Elouise. Continue reading Weary
There were a few comments on my last Solitary #5 from Sue, John, Peggy and Margie that have prompted me to reply in detail. The photo showed an old weatherboard house in the middle of a ploughed paddock. This could be central Nebraska. Peggy Looks rather forlorn in all that expanse of land. Sue Do people just abandon their farms? Is it impossible to sell … Continue reading An answer of sorts
Once upon a time I . . . .but no longer. Continue reading Solitary #4
You all know Bear and Duck. They have been around for a while. Recently Tyabb turned up out of the blue and the stories keep coming. Yesterday Tyabb came in from the garden and said, “I saw something in the garden. It was climbing on the broad beans.” “Ah yes, Tyabb. You were lucky. He doesn’t let people see him very often. He will come … Continue reading The wyrt-weard and the Sprekelia.
Paol Soren 