December 2020 * microverses

The Hermit by Matthew Wilson

Sorry could not deliver packageyou were not at homehave dropped off at nearest neighboralpha centauri sector. Photo by Edvin Richardson from Pexels

She sat by the window, watching the reds and oranges illuminate the sky. The sunset was the most stunning she

What the world knowsas my soundsare babble of your loveI your grandmother’s conch I am oceanhushness in waitfor your breaths

Sis’s glasses, once broken and then redesigned, dangled from a desk strewn with equations. It’s all she left. When the

The sky doesn’t mark the boundary.Neither does your skin. Photo by Abdullah Ghatasheh from Pexels

The sacred flames measured important timelines. “What is this one?” The novice pointed to a green candle the size of

One day they will find my cottage empty:Fire burning, clock still ticking,bags unpacked upstairs, clothes neatly folded.Phone abandoned on its

Due to organizational issues, the future already began yesterday. Photo by Pixabay from Pexels

you were floating on your back between the stars, taking them in as waves lapped your body and your naked

Icarus, beset by rain, turns back. Photo by Vlad Chețan from Pexels