family – Wordflower

a fire burning low, with ashes and some unburnt square pieces of wood

The front door creaks open — stillness interrupted — heavy footsteps cross the threshold, the waft of body odour displacing fresh air, a familiar voice can be heard, 1 February 20262 February 2026

the die, recast 15 January 202615 January 2026

A small knitted toy dog in orange/yellow/beige yarn, standing up on a wooden table

Nursing home nonets 12 December 202515 December 2025

Bunna / What remains 22 June 20256 December 2025

the author as a baby with a doll and lying on a pillow that is from 1970s and garishly patterned

Bird ‘n’ bee talk 12 April 202525 October 2025

A worldwide thank you 27 March 202527 March 2025

When I was cute 12 March 202515 March 2025

as for the rest / final instructions / rebellion

as for the rest / final instructions / rebellion 15 September 202416 March 2025

Before I was bad 12 September 20244 May 2025

Kara-ku 20 August 20243 December 2025