The Alcove: Strikethrough
two on the fence, one grey squirrel motionless, an the other — its tail a rudder steering through speed, crimped and flagging semaphores messages; a spiderweb at the window, delicate as Brugge lace, a breeze inflicting coaxing teasing a minute tremor through its lattices; autumn arrived two months early, as though woollen socks had some private grievance against summer the world had grown impatient with itself.
I enjoy revision.
Mimi’s raisin spice Cake For Challenging Days arrives: a precise, sharp-angled cut of geometry on a plate that’s enough to make a student forgive the necessity of maths.
“Thank you, Denise,” I smile, still admiring the care taken; “Enjoy, …” she starts, then pauses, and I lift the air by saying, “Marilyn — just Marilyn.”
“What are you writing?”
My answer is in no rush: “What I see, mostly … it’s a habit of attention.”
Previous Instalments – To access all of the instalments on one page, please use this link. Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story including the word “rush”. Some images created with Midjourney; all writing is authentically my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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