Category: column

Save Our Trees

My city is one of the greenest in the country, known as ‘the outdoor city’ its pockets of green spaces and its close proximity to open countryside give it its semi rural feel. Sheffield straddles post industrialism with nature easily, perhaps because it has always mixed the two. Factories back onto the river. Parks and gardens over-look the busy town centre. And suburban streets are lined with trees, providing the name ‘the leafy suburbs’. But these streets have had a fight on their hands lately. One which they seem to be losing.

Wonderfold Winner

A special thank you to everyone who submitted this month, it’s always a pleasure reading through the various works of literature! Our winner this month is Christina Sng with her beautiful poem The Gravity of Loss. Read, share, comment and remember to submit next time!

Oh

by Greg Hill Accessible version: Oh for all the world, so few could solve my riddled heart as you ©2018 by Greg Hill Greg Hill is a writer and voice-over talent in West Hartford, Connecticut, where he spends evenings composing little tunes for his…

It was close

stylized photo of barn window

by F.J. Bergmann If I’d gotten hay for the horses from another farm If I’d been able to pay cash instead of working in the field If you hadn’t lost your balance and sat down just before the truck went under the bridge If…

Body Polychrome

by Ahimaz Rajessh Accessible version: Body Polychrome shades of garment lapse of instants shades of light compose her …now brown … now wheatish now black … now goldish… tones ©2018 by Ahimaz Rajessh Lately published in 200 CCs, Flapperhouse, Pidgeonholes, theEEEL & Strange Horizons,…

True Love

“Because I just can’t take anymore.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic, we’ve walked round this shopping mall ten times, we’ve been in every shoe shop there is.”

Flipper

stylized photo of frost on glass

by Austin Davis It’s almost too much— the way she holds my hand on raw December mornings even when her nails camouflage with the frost kissed grass. The sleeves slip from the dark blue sweater she wears of mine and her hands lose their…

I wonder what you see…

#WonderFold is a monthly feature that includes a prompt-based writing challenge on the first Monday of every odd month, followed by the publication of a winning response the first Monday of the next month. INVITATION: All art grows out of paying attention: in sight,…

Bird House Blind

top of fallen birch tree on the snow

by M.R. Baird I dwell in a house that is not mine; milk snow, lake effect, eagle overhead flies on with outstretched wings, open eyed, above the blinds, my hands grasping, the cold, trees fall, weather comes in again. This house is full of…

Evergreen

The tree had been caged in mesh at the garden centre, a small woman with a bright smile telling Louise she must water it and keep it away from radiators. Louise had looked at the way the tree, its branches free only seconds before, was constricted and held, and she felt a wave of guilt rush through her body. She could water it, of course, but keep it away from a radiator? Impossible in her flat.