may isle

may isle

CONTENTS

Welcome

Welcome to 'A Frample', a confused tangle of columns, prose poems and lyrics. It's not so much a blog as an online folder, lying somewhere between a drawer and the bin.


Whispered shapes


1985

She could feel the shadow of the colliery hanging over her like bad news from the doctor. Staring down at the sea-coal underfoot, she felt herself trampled, taken to an edge, ready to be toppled and trampled, over and over again.

It was hard to think of something, anything, they could do to her that hadn’t already been done; nothing that could be said that she hadn’t already heard. Whatever happened today, would probably happen again tomorrow.

Everyone thought they knew her, and she smiled at that because not one of them had even come close to even seeing her. She saw lips mouthing whispered shapes, and the murmurs she heard became the waves. She listened for a minute, and began to hum.

Picture: Xusrenu

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