Friday Fictioneers – 1.2.13

A heart of stone cannot fail to bring the quickening of breath in those that observe its wilful stillness change, be they Art Gallery active, postcard passive or best friend supportive, it will provoke reaction.

There is reaction no more from our workspace.

Her tools lie there, spooning near our heads’ cradling immobility, and fear begins to creep within me at the settling of dust upon her final work,for only I see the stolen life present there, hidden in intensity: the hammer, the chisel, the striving, the weeks invested…

…and the ledge where she kept my ring.

16 thoughts on “Friday Fictioneers – 1.2.13

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