'Nests' Flash by Candi Martin

After- Manic Depression by Spike Milligan.

Beyond sorry bloodshot eyes of her white veiled face, Alps of ice-covered doubt had formed. Eye sockets turned dark stone caverns. Packed solid with rocks thrown, biting words sealing every crack.

Despite decrying dependence for nearly twenty years. She had slowly come to relish the thought of this springtime wedding. The return of Swallow song and Warblers. Ospreys swooping low amongst raspberry-ripple blossoms. As close as a soulmate she could find on Tinder stood beaming beside her. Reed banks offered up fresh green shoots. A fortification for nests. For new life, new beginnings.

She noticed those absent more than those present. Those for whom the sight of her stood here right now, happy, could have been met only with snake venom scorn. A venom freshly poured over, right through and around her tired heart, since she had told them she would be giving up her job of carrying the family. To now look after and grow one of her own.

A swallow’s swoop caught her stinging eyes. Tears desperately forcing out all the poison poured in place of confetti. She glanced around a semi-circle of smiling eyes. Trying to allow them back into her own. Eyes unaware of the fact that even today, amongst the gentlest of springtime weddings. A thousand grim winters still grew in her head.

All Rights. Candi Martin.

Candi Martin is a writer and tutor from Lancashire. Recently completing MA Creative Writing and Wellbeing, she has delivered free writing for wellbeing workshops online through the pandemic and is now taking some time to focus on her own creative practice. Publication with Fragmented Voices and Local Gems Press and upcoming in South Bank Poetry.

Instagram @candi_says_