My new friend R and I went to the Royal Botanics a few weeks ago. I haven’t been in a photo-taking mood for a while, but I took my dSLR just in case. Of course I forgot my macro lens and my tripod, so I got fifty blurry shots of pretty blooms and bees doing their thing, and then this one.
So yes, I am a walking cliché.
My Beta Phi Mu bookmark arrived in the post today, making me an official member of the international library and information studies honour society. A friend said I should be able to show this at bookstores to get access to their secret stash.
For now, I’ll carry it around just in case.
I don’t remember what the next word was going to be. “Ever since you wrote ‘The Bridge’…”? “Ever since I moved to Edinburgh…”? I paused over the impropriety of using only his first name in the address.
I dithered. And now it is too late: I lost my chance to tell him how much his words meant to me.
In honour of Iain (M.) Banks, Illicit Ink will present a night of paradise-themed fiction at the Bongo Club on Sunday, 7 July at 20:00. The event is called “This Side of Paradise” and I feel lucky, grateful, and more than a little terrified to be a part of it.
It’s not quite a second chance. I’ll take it.
Hello. I am still here. June is the kind of busy that makes my eyebrows hurt, but 90% of it is wonderful busy, like spending time with my mom. Here is a photo I took of a bloom on the orchid she gave us last year. And if you are in or near Edinburgh, come along to the National Flash Fiction Day event I helped to coordinate.
See you in July.
You genuflected outside the gothic cathedral
the day after I got officially old.
My nose was running and cold and
I turned from the great grey edifice
to see the only familiar face
for miles. On that face,
the expression I tried to capture:
irreverent yet strangely penitent,
maybe just tired from walking
or overwhelmed by unfamiliar vowels
or musing how new it feels to feel this old.