Author: Flora

A light laugh pearled from her mouth. This is the only way I can describe it, I swear to you if I could say it differently, I would. I hate figures of speech just as much as you do, probably even more. But this woman was different, her poise and elegance not to be matched…

a long journey home The sea is lying perfectly still, enclosed as it is by these high mountains which have surrounded it since eternity and more. Dusk has fallen over the city which lies at the peak of the sea enclave, perched right in the valley between two high mountain ranges sloping their way against…

The big marble hallway felt empty as a church when the clock strikes three in the morning, although it was only early afternoon. Heavy sunlight filtered in through the windows, illuminating the countless oil portraits suspended from the wall, each one more intricate, more colourful than the last. Giant rivers of red velvet curtains were…

In some ways she envied him, and in some ways she wished more than anything else to never become like him. It was a strange ambiguity, something that intrigued her about him and his careless ways, just as much as it repelled her. He was like a magnet to her, and there were times when…

He’d always wondered, all these years he’d known her why she loved the sea so much and why she was pulled to it almost with magnetic intensity, every summer as soon as the days got lighter all she wanted to do was escape, head south, to where the waves crashed onto pebbly beaches.   Sometimes…

Feverishly he walks along the edges of his mind, searching for the words that will make her stay, he knocks at the walls of her mind to find what is hidden behind it, the real reason why she’d said what she just said but he finds himself strangely unable to form any coherent thought. His…

„Mein Leben war so lang in vielen Aspekten, und so unglaublich kurz in vielen anderen. Ich erinnere mich nicht mehr mit Sicherheit an die grossen Dinge. Ich weiss nicht mehr, wie mein Hochzeitskleid ausgesehen hat, was das erste Wort meines ersten Kindes war. Erinnerungen sind eine seltsame Sache. Ich weiss nichts mehr von den grossen…

She took long, deep strokes in the simmering summer heat. She’d always loved swimming for its robotic and reliable motions, for the space it opened up for thinking the instant her mind went places while her body moved automatically; left arm, right arm, left, breathe; left arm, right arm, left, breathe. But not even she…

She was radiant and good, a queen among her people if ever there has been one, even though no royal blood ran through her veins. She was attentive in her silence, listening out for small undercurrents of a change of tone, or a change of light in a room. She was self-assured in her character,…

There’s a tree outside his window. It’s a willow, strong and bony, her hair reaching to the ground in tearful sorrow. She makes him sad every time he looks at her. He’s not sure if that is her fault or his. Might be no one’s in particular, just his mind sometimes. It’s worst of all…