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8/24/2017 0 Comments Toes on the Beach Toes on the beach, pink and vulnerable among a myriad pebbles. Sharp stones smoothed and blunted by their storming, tumbling passage through the waves, some round and bland, generic shingle, but others lie twisted and angular, resistant to the ocean’s shaping force, a trap for unwary toes. Pebble colours of ochre, slate and dun with the occasional exclamation point of a stone as white as bone. And toes, on the beach, pink and vulnerable.
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AuthorI spent most of my life not realising I was a writer. I just thought everybody's minds worked like mine. On some level I had a vague idea that the conversations with people who weren't there might just put me in the crazy category, so I kept quiet. Besides, the people in my head were usually more interesting which was never going to win me friends out there in the reality sphere. Fiction has always seemed to offer more interest than the real world and finally I realised - this is how writers think! Normal people don't have these thoughts. So, I had the imagination and the crazy thoughts. The only thing needed to turn me into a writer was to put pen to paper... Or, in my case, fingers to keypad. Here goes! Archives
January 2019
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