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Weekly Contest #103
I haven't seen my father for years. It is something I accept yet resent to do so happily. Giving me so much opportunity to grow as a person, I understand it is something I should have gratitude for. He wasn't a good man. He subjected me to trauma everyday of my youth, and so left me in a state he's never considered to check on. Those soft deep-set brown eyes, always holding the same rough stare. Shoulders always decidedly still, and hands never clean but neither particularly dirty. They were soft, soft enough for the naivety of a small girl...
Weekly Contest #100
I’d never been partial to any foods other than ham. Perhaps a slice of toast occasionally, but my discriminating and fairly restrictive palette would never settle for anything other than the full-bodied saltiness of processed goods. For the ripe age of six, I understood this was not unusual as such although rather backward for someone who adores eating. There was not a family Christmas that went by without my Nanna having to prepare a separate meal merely because of my overdemanding preferences, or a Primary school disco, in which I’d hand o...
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