Splendins

The explosion happened at 4:13pm. The blast hit little Hockley approximately one and three quarter seconds following the detonation; the windows of the three oldest buildings in Little Hockley all cracking simultaneously and the village clock stopped. A little way to the west three children witnessed the sky break. Daisy chains were dropped, as was the small red bike, as they watched the clouds form. They surged upwards and then billowed out as force met atmosphere and the sky dimmed. The force that hit the three children was not harsh; it caused the little toddler to stumble and the oversize sunhat to fly east. All three pairs of young ears

"We've been here before." said a voice Mary was sure she recognised. "We used to come here a lot." She said without turning around. Carefully she dug down into the dark, rich soil and sculpted another pit with her trowel. Reaching across the dewy grass, she picked up another bulb, it's dry, wrinkly skin crackling against her gloves. "That's why it feels familiar then! It looks good Mary….real good…" Mary sighed and sat back on her knees. Slowly she drew off the garden gloves and turned towards the voice. Robert, her husband, sat on one of the white patio chairs. He was in his striped pyjamas she had bought him last Christmas. H

Heaven has exploded It has blown away the stars Their strewn and shattered pieces On our mortal mind leave little, invisible scars As we stare at heaven Our eyes upturned white The children go a-running From the dark places of the night. Away from the demons Who now inhabit the godly way And the children Who hide in the back alleys Chasing the escaping day As la Llorona comes walking, walking Towards where they, sleeping, lay. Gently she will brush their shoulder The black silk wafting in the breeze She will cry over them Black blood with ease. She will take them on a journey From which they may never return Through the

I have seen the end of the earth I have touched the edge of the sky I have walked the forgotten roads I have flown as birds fly Across the land I have jumped The stars I have seen I have tumbled like their dust Onto surface unclean I have washed it with my hands With whirling waters wide I have grown there a seedling And there it still abides But now it grows lush And into the sky A pulse of ivory roses In the moons opal eye I have stolen breath from the old man Given name to the young Spoken all the languages And yet have no tongue I have watched the world a-spinning Freed the imprisoned, imprisoned the free The world

The days so long And yet so set. Rolling between The staves And the bars. Fingers treading the keys Of our lives. Lingering... Rolling from  one note to the next. The heart cried Passion And so you give it. Ebony and ivory, Black on white, Plastic with plastic. Reaching the music, Fingers poised. Never crossing The divide.

As the next morning broke over the sand dunes, the sun rolling out for another day. Flynn slammed down the pot lid with a bang. The professor looked up from his map, staring over his glasses at the boy; "Careful Flynn, we may need that later. Treat it with respect." Flynn nodded sullenly and began to chop up pickled lemonsotes to toss into the stew. Across the fire Kray sat silently sharpening his knives. Thud, thud, thud, went the knife on the makeshift chopping board. Flynn tossed the hard vegetables into the broth and let the lid clang again. "Where are the herbs?" He asked, not looking up. "In my satchel, in the back of the cart. Can

Flynn woke to the sound of Kray returning, He didn't open his eyes but instead listened to the planesman shuffle around in the darkness. The Flynn and the professor had eaten a modest meal without him and set up a small, temporary tent with a few logs and the cliff face as a support. They had set a fire outside the tent as the night drew in and Flynn heard the coals crackle as Kray set another lot of kindling down. Beside him, Flynn could hear the steady breathing of the professor and he knew that if he turned over he would see the model sitting cross legged in the corner of the tent. The professor had wanted to leave her outside but Flynn h

The company made their way along the edge of the cliffs, staying as close to the side as possible to try and prevent the cart from becoming stuck in the sands. The professor rode behind Flynn and every so often Flynn caught him staring though he quickly looked away. Soon they came upon the prayer stone. It was tall, taller than Kray, made of the same grey rock as the mountainside. It was a spear shape pointing skywards and all around it were wrapped ribbons. Each was different, a different colour or different type. Some were silk and others wool but each had something attached to them. One had a bell that beat against stone in the wind, anot

He lay there for a moment, basking in the sunshine. Although the sun was not yet high the sand was already hot under his jacket and there were no clouds to be seen. Flynn sat up and surveyed the surroundings. Desert. As far as the eye could see. Around the base of the Caerin Mountains were patches of baked gorse and other prickly trees but there was no sign of life in the desert. Flynn had read about Gleb in books but never had he expected to be so in awe of something so dead. The sand went on and on, a deep terracotta in colour, it rolled into dunes and dips. Here and there the wind whipped at it, sending mini storms of sand into the atmosp