Tag Archives: Elizabeth Leyland

ELIZABETH LEYLAND: In the 1950s

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

A streetlamp guides me, a blurred pool of light. My spine curves to the handlebars.

Yesterday my conceit ruled, and I left. Afterwards, I wrote to her: bungled, confused words about freedom.

I must reach her before the letter.

The lamppost’s swan-neck is thinned by fog, delicate as a nerve.

Elizabeth Leyland writes short and long fiction and lives in the UK. She has been published by 50-Word Stories, Paragraph Planet, Fairfield Scribes and CafeLit.

ELIZABETH LEYLAND: Legs Are Going; Don’t Let Brain Follow

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

I lean across the driver’s seat to drag and twist myself in. A flapping fish? A human corkscrew?

The wind is strong. Please, door, stay open.

One must keep doing things, seeing people.

A man says, “Is this your hat?”

One less thing to manage.

“No.” Remember manners. “Thank you.”

Elizabeth Leyland writes short and long fiction and lives in the UK. She has been published by Fairfield Scribes and CafeLit.