Saturday, 19 September 2009

Being Ten


He remembers how he tried to make that heart. Pressing his fingertips into the red clay, he made it as symmetrical as he could, and then he baked it in the oven for hours, hoping it would emerge as something unbreakable.

2 comments:

annie clarkson said...

am really enjoying these tiny prose pieces, almost like prose haiku?

I esp like this one...

emma said...

Thanks Annie. xx