Tag: eyes
-
Irish Fire
My grandmother called it Irish fire, said it raged through my father hotter than Beli Mawr’s bum. She was long dead when it finally flared fiercer than he could contain. The embers of his eyes scorched childhood’s last leaves to ash, left them smoldering. Ryan Stone
-
This house
never recovered from the storms of ’93 when lightning stroked shingles, shorted out circuits, left one side wind blown and sagging. Tufts of moss sprout from the bowed memory of taut boards. A plague of crickets lurk beneath stairs, creaking their arthritic chatter. From a threadbare recliner in a ramshackle room I gaze over fields…
-
