Grace Mary Potts


My life is comprised of inconsistencies, daydreaming, procrastination techniques and occasionally, writing.

Message to Readers

This is really just drabble - something I wrote in passing, inspired by a conversation with my mother on the way to school. It's very short and nothing to be taken seriously but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Constructive criticism is welcome and very much appreciated.

The Smell of Burning

October 22, 2015


It hits her like a brick wall - the smell of burning, sharp and acrid - her nose wrinkles at the strength of the scent. 

"Burn offs?" she questions.

Her mother shrugs haphazardly, distracted as she digs through her handbag for her keys.

"Smells more like a fireplace to me."

The answer catches her off guard, slightly. Really? Can a fireplace really permeate the air like this? Covering the suburb like a blanket of poisonous fog?


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  • October 22, 2015 - 10:18am (Now Viewing)

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