The White Dress

As rain streams down the windscreens of passing cars, the white dress still flails against the gutter. Torn and faded, smeared with mud, it still tries to pull itself up as the world bears down. Once loved with innocence it’s now forgotten, lost, and left to weather the storm alone. © 2016, Gavin Zanker. Photo …

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The flames keep burning

So much effort, to show none, while the strain inside feeds the headache today and the brain tumour tomorrow. An adept of self manipulation you know just how to angle the world, and smile your smile, so they can see you in that perfect moment. When the pretence ends and you realise you were always …

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I never forgot the dust

The truth is that the man had died many weeks prior, but we don’t like to tell people that. The smell was the only reason anyone knew at all – drawing out the complaints of the shrieking hag upstairs. I pushed open the door and he was there slumped back in his chair, gazing at …

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