I wish my body was made of clay
So that I may make for myself
A form that is mine.
But I am made of flesh and blood
And bones are much harder to shape
Than clay.
About the Creator
Ash Taylor
He/Him
Bachelors of Media and Communications, currently battling my way through a Masters in Journalism. Working in radio telling stories, and writing on the weekend. Making my way through my 400 odd backlog of books.
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More stories from Ash Taylor and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Devil's Triangle
The sails ruffled in the breeze as we cruised along. The Sea Breeze was a mid-size catamaran that sailed out of Royal Naval Dockyard in Bermuda. We had booked this trip weeks in advance and were now looking at our Captain, Spike and two boat hands. Paddy and Wilson seemed like nice guys, joking around with the passengers and telling us some stories about Bermuda that only locals would know. Their island accents sounded almost British but they were pleasant to listen to.
By Barbara Gode Wiles2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
🫂 So... real. Thank you for sharing, Ash!
❤️📝