stories

untitled

it is the day the spiders hatched.

self-portrait with ghost

they hadn’t spoken in 40 years.

“tell the story of a scar”

he had always been gifted at sports of all kinds /

The Story of the Nether Largie Stanes

“Mooooooon!” Earth would call up into the darkness. “Gealllaaaach! Come down here and talk with me, for I long for a sister who understands me, and I feel you could be the one.”

the woman

the woman

once there was a woman who lived alone

the spider

the woman remembered
the swivel of shod hooves on the dusty road,
and running.

the dance

one day the woman awoke
feeling strange.

dreams

i dreamed my name

i dreamed my mother

i dreamed i was a rotting log

the fog

the woman walked south
along the high cliff path

the port

the woman brushed the wet sand from her dress. the pair walked on in silence

the sea-wives

«mother doesn’t give a shit.»

the boat

on windy days the sea-wives would be busy with the boats.

the landing

branta came that night. paddled right up beside her in a tree-trunk canoe, offering a name.