Tag Archives: Beth O’Brien

Lifelines

She’s not very practised in palmistry but she examines the veins of a leaf and imagines the principle is the same. In the detail of a slant and the giveaway of a curve, she learns that the future of this … Continue reading

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Head-spun

The skull looks new, although I could be wrong because I’ve never seen a skull before now. There’s a little piece of bone that sticks out at the back, like part of the body made a break for it. It … Continue reading

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Morning walks

She drags her feet through gravel revealing dirty sand underneath, then, ensuring she has stepped on every crack in the pavement, she turns and heads back the way she came. She says she’s left something behind, but I’m sure she’s … Continue reading

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Sorting out

I see the loft as an elevated burial ground. There is as much of her up there, as we placed in the earth – if not more. Photos, clothes, books, notebooks, diaries. Lots and lots of diaries. I wonder why … Continue reading

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Home is where the food is

The flat has not yet lost its showroom feel. The walls are too white, and the sides too bare to be called homely. Her key lets her in to where the lights are off and nothing is cooking. Looking in the fridge, … Continue reading

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