Bouquet: Flash Fiction by K. S. Moore
The pale yellow, shell-like construction of a daffodil . . . My niece presents me with the flower, along with a handful of catkins. The catkins draw my senses with their animal texture and my heart twists. This pure gesture stands out as my world continues to revolve with change. I take a sheet of…
The Wind that Shook the Daffodils
The Wind that Shook the Daffodils: A Memory Story by K. S. Moore The St David’s Day concert was one of the highlights of the Primary School Year. We got to wear our Welsh costumes. For the girls, an elaborate ensemble comprising of a white blouse, shawl and red skirt, topped off with a lace…
Flash Fiction: Roses and Memories by K. S. Moore
She likes to sit right among the roses. She doesn’t mind the thorns, doesn’t fear them. They are only part of a rose, just as human prickles and niggles are part of their skin. Naturally, the petals draw her eye and her favour, like soft tissue, wrapped around a gift. The shade of pink is…
Finding Time to Write
Finding time to write has become more of a challenge since giving birth to my baby girl. Ok, let’s be honest here, finding time to do anything other than look after her has become a challenge! However, as she skips past the ten week mark old (yes, 10 weeks!) I can cheerfully say ‘I am…
Icicles, a Winter Poem by K. S. Moore
Icicles don’t bend, they stand up straight and spear. Through them, I see a white expanse, the field has stolen snow . . .
Flash Fiction: Owl Eyes
Owl eyes are the deepest. They draw you in, when you don’t want to be drawn. When you want to sit still and mind your own business, stay lost in your own thoughts. This owl was curious. I saw it in his red-rust flecks. He wasn’t about to blink. Then again, neither was I.
Halloween Short Story Extract
The road narrows and the fog hangs in, like dragon breath. We’re on a nameless diversion – no signposts, not even sun to mark the horizon. Houses float out, make themselves known against white. If people live here, it can’t be so desolate. It’s just the weather. But the road shudders its way into the…
Write Club Continues
My new project, ‘Write Club’ continues to grow, as the third meeting took place last Saturday, at Waterford Central Library. The people who attended were full of positivity and passion for writing, which leant the session a definite energy. The atmosphere also seemed very relaxed, suggesting that people are settling in and beginning to enjoy…
‘Home Waves’ for National Poetry Day
Home Waves To lie on the line between sand and sea will not be enough will not express my homesick, long-hearted fondness for here.