Ten Word Story – Page 2

The Train Seat

Limbs fold
into each other,
squeezing into
the train seat.

A sharp instinct
for the smell of
roses and figs.

awkwardly beckon
for her love to move
into the bushes

The Curator
of ancient cutlery admires
the knives and forks.

A summer serenade

under the full

moonlight by the sea.

Duckies congregate
there’s comfort in their quacking
Waddling and talking

You serenade

with saucepans,

cutlery and Tupperware;

my kinda man.

moving emotion;
making room for those lies you tell yourself.

Anna walks towards the path, which turns into an arbour; Just before the Arbour, a man stands alone, rubbing a leaf between his palms.

Perplexed and intrigued, she asks, “What are you doing?“

Silence follows. She repeats the words.

He looks, “I’m collecting ideas“.

“Ideas for what?“

“I write poetry…“.

“You’re a Poet! I’m a poet to-“

“Poor you!“

recommend
beauty
in the way
petals
fall
to the ground