Strawberry something

He is leaning with his back against the twisted metal bars of the playground. Painted bright red and yellow, they are a mess of colour beneath his black jacket. White fluff drifts past my face. It drifts everywhere like snow; and I thought winter was over. But here is the white fluffy stuff of summer. […]

Into the Morning

Swoosh out of the cold, dewy morning with the wet, damp grass that tickles his little feet. They land with a silent scratch upon the wooden floors. A dust-bunny tickles his nose, teasing him. He remembers the real bunnies outside, chewing their hay happily as the sun rose in a pinkish blur behind their big […]