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Freya Manns Creaton

United Kingdom

Message to Readers

Any feedback would be fantastic

This Big Beautiful World Of Ours

May 10, 2016

PROMPT: Flashlight

2
There are couples in the streets kissing
Sat huddled beneath folded newspapers
Searching each other with curious glances
And fumbling fingers
There are magpies flying over
Flitting from rooftop to telephone wire
And gravel sinks far below
Mixing with moulding leaves and muddy footprints

There are five year olds dancing
In dungarees and welly boots
To the sad slow strum of an old man’s guitar
Who thanks the little ones graciously
For their donations in coppers and silvers
But scowls when their skipping backs are turned
And they are led into coffee shop kiosks

There are back to back houses
With post flaps boarded up
And nervous old women peer
With bated breath, through barred windows
Locks on their doors, to keep the youths
With cawing voices and insecurities
Far from their cluttered corridors
But mostly used to lock themselves in

There's a letter under a bed
That's never been sent
To a father that never knew what he had
And a child who only got one side of the story
Who begs her mummy for one more lullaby
There’s a mother sobbing in a nursing home
Because she outlived her daughter
And she hates herself for it

There’s an insomniac on a train
A scrappy jack russel on the seat next to him
Talking with crazed eyes about his story
To the bewildered girl opposite
Intrigued and terrified, and lacking in things to say
There’s a chocolate bar wrapper
On the tube station floor
And a car blaring music from a long dead singer

There’s a clock that’s been covered
And a old man who doesn't want to know the time
A rain storm peals over
Laughing at the bundles of umbrellas down bellow
And a woman wracked with guilt
Is thanking the rain drops for hiding her tears
Giving her smeared makeup a reason to be there

There’s a house on a hilltop
There’s a house where no one lives
And a lawn that no one's mowed
And grandchildren who won’t be making dirty daisy chains
Coats buttoned up to their chins against the wind
On that great lawn anymore
There's a man who wants to buy it
Who wants gym equipment and cheap coffee
And a place for the rich to mould away

There’s a lake where a man asks another to marry him
And a duckling that got lost between the reeds
There’s doctor's appointments missed
And charity collectors abandoned
There’s pigeons on the post box
And a cold man sleeping rough bellow
There’s half the world dying from eating too little
And half from eating too much

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