Their pale faces freckled beige by age and damp, their petals unfurling under the weight of raindrops…. I remember their June colours, as fresh as off the tips of paintbrushes…

Every inch of elastic claimed for uniforms; the steel of safety pins, along with the tin foil wrappers from cigarette boxes, collected and donated for propellers and the hulls of ships – how was girl to hold up her knickers?

The slanting sun was hitting me in the eye…..

Scattered around my computer monitor were three of my mother’s journals and two boxes of her saved letters, bundled and tied up with string. Colourful stamps and postmarks …

Standing in front of Lyon’s cathedral, I watched darting swallows dive towards the fountain in the cobblestoned square….

The Tale of Murmur and Bruit, A Cardiovascular Story of Doomed Love, by JKForward

Similar to the Montague and Capulet families and their children Romeo and Juliet, this is the story of the Oxyo and Capno families and their children, two star-crossed lovers, red blood cells who for the sake of this romantic tale have been named after heart sounds Bruit and Murmur. Follow their journey as circulating blood takes them along their fated paths through the heart’s chambers.

Black shawl covering grey hair, she sits quietly, knitting needles clicking, invisible to the German soldiers arrogantly striding past her…

There needs to be a soupçon of crisp, created of course by butter, that crumbles about in your mouth as …

The medium has a ring on each finger of the hand that holds mine, two on each thumb….

Do you remember how you filled your free time at home before computers, smart phones and streaming TV demanded all of that time?