Ochre Idyls

Poems, Haiku/Tanka, Short Fictions

She had to fight to keep the exhaustion from pulling him into sleep. His head nodded sharply, once, twice. The eery calm of first the funeral home and then the church worked a double roundhouse on his waking self. He kept slipping to the canvas, saved only by the bell of her elbow.

  • Fiction
  • 53 words
  • < 1 min
  • July 04, 2025