First Day Blues

The key turns smoothly in the lock. She listens for the familiar click as the bolt draws back.

Her hand reaches for the knob. A gentle turn and push. The door opens on the quiet dark beyond.

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Birds of a feather

Tara massaged her craniofacial hinge with two feathers from her left wing in small circular movements. It was already daylight, she was tired and this was turning into a long and sleepless day.

“So … you’re an owl?”  The Twenty-eight was confused.

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Sniper

I can see the world wobbling and waving in front of me as I lie flat and still on my stomach. It’s so hot that even the tar from the road is losing water.

My head feels light and my breath comes in short bursts.

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Welcome to the club

“Oh god. Ohgod-ohgod-ohgod-ohgod.”

A thick ooze of rich scarlet stained her knickers. Sunita sat on the toilet with her head in her hands, knickers around her knees, nose dripping, tears streaming down her cheeks, not knowing what to do, and terrified of telling Mummy. She winced and clenched her fists as another cramp ripped through her.

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Winter Wonderland

Mix stretched his arms skyward, extending each vertebra. He opened his lips into a round flat O, scrunched up his eyes, and yawned the yawn of the bone-weary. It had been a very long night.

He looked around pleased with himself. The world was elegant, blanketed in her new downy white coat, wearing her finest crystals, ready for the grand Winter ball.

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The Unbearable Hotness of being (with apologies to Milan Kundera)

The air rolled its warm fat fingers lovingly over Sophia’s lean, supple body, caressing every inch, as she lay on her side on top of the breakfast table. Making herself as flat as possible, she stretched each limb in turn, reaching out until her muscles squealed and shuddered with the ache of effort. She felt as if her very being was melting into the wood beneath her, merging with the table, oozing into one solitary being.

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Indelible

Mathaiamma shuffled away with a troubled mind, one foot dragging sluggishly behind her, her sari pulled across her nose and mouth to stop the choking dust she was kicking up, wisps of white hair escaping the confines of material. Her every movement was laboured now, her body weakened and battered and broken by the grinding civil war.

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Her Honest Life: You’re Lucky If They Act Out

This post from the extraordinary Ijeoma Oluo deals with her personal experience of nearly losing her beautiful, clever, loving, sensitive son.

This is a story we all need to read.

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The Story of A Parenting Win and A Happy Dance

snoopy_dancing_by_jessie4508

Last week we went on a road trip to Florida (you can find posts on that here if you’re interested) and it was wonderful.  But along the way, we acquired a flat tyre on my car.  So yesterday I called the lovely serviceman to come and change my tyre over for the spare (I have an SUV, I’m not jacking that sucker up to change a tyre by myself when I pay insurance premiums, so spare me the “you could have changed your own tyre” speech — I’ve changed plenty in my life), and today I had to go get the original repaired or replaced.

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A Blog All Parents Should Read

Today I came across this blog.  It is both a collection of letters/notes from adult women to their teenage selves (or to teenage women generally), and a place where teens can seek answers to questions (either by asking directly, or by reading the many stories already posted).

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