The Lighthouse (a short story; thriller)

© Danielle Ohi, 31.01.19 The gravel crunched under the tyres of the old Chevy Caprice ’96 as it groaned to a halt. There was a crispness to the air, like the bristling cold of a not-quite-spring morning merged with the distant scent of ocean spray. Doors slammed in staccato, followed shortly by four feet crunching […]

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The Mother: A Portrait

She gazes down upon her infant, Her eyes warm like sunbeams, Her smile, the crescent moon, Her love, the air he breathes. Ears pricked up, like a bat’s, she hears a cry before it blossoms, Her feet are swift, her arms sweep quick, To whisk her child into her bosom. There is sugar in her […]

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