bozostargazer's profile

A pair of sandals left on a beach. That is all I have left of her. You wouldn’t exactly call them solitary, for there are two of them; but nonetheless they appear alone, yet somehow content, against the flat, smooth and perfectly untouched ripples of sand on which they sat. I can recall exactly how they appear, and the backdrop, for I have a photograph of them. A friend of mine was at the time working for the local newspaper, doing a work experience with the news photographer. He stole a copy...

The click of the lightswitch, and the subsequent flooding of light penetrating through his eyelids, awoke him. The unnaturally bright, artificial glare roused him prematurely from his slumber and made him feel as if he had been violently shaken awake, eliciting an early morning groan. The type of groan that wants more sleep but knows that it will be not forthcoming. He sat upright in the stiff bed and rubbed his eyes, looking around himself with a slight expression of surprise in his eyes: fo...

A middle aged man walked through the darkened street, passing the closed curtains and dim lights of the old and tall Victorian houses. They stood tall and imposing, with peeling paint on the old brick blocks beneath their long windows, and sheltered their inhabitants from the uncertainty of the outside. The dirty amber glow of the towering street lights threw its light pollution into the starless sky, providing a rhythm as he walked on and giving the impression of unclean pearls illuminating ...

The grating sound of someone clumsily trying to force a key into the lock of the door and taking several unsuccessful attempts in doing so stirred her prematurely from sleep and she felt that familiar pang of resentment and irritation. He staggered in, noisily, almost tripping over a pair of shoes on the floor and started to undress. He was drunk again. ‘Hey love,’ he just about managed to articulate, unbalanced on his feet. ‘Can we have a chat? Sorry I’m late in’, he added as an apologetic c...

I much prefer letters to anything That has been electronically sent The realness of the smudges in the ink And the cheap recycled paper That I can imagine has been close to you, Privy to that touch which I so covet Your sparse words are the trickling Of a teasing tap in the middle of the night That refuses to be turned off Each one a secret covenant, a reminder For only me From you, half a world away. Thats something to which I must turn. I can't imagine what you must be doing now; Exotic ima...