Tag Archives: Heather Haigh

HEATHER HAIGH: Settling Down

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

Hitched tight, we moved to a red-brick bungalow bounded by a red-brick walled garden—neat as a pin, pinned in a red-brick estate, where floral-aproned matrons cooled bread by gosssiping windows and exchanged pie recipes; but because, after thrashing rain, I could sycamore-seed spin, inhaling petrichor—sometimes I could breathe.

Heather’s body is knackered and her brain runs intermittently on adrenaline, somewhere in Yorkshire, usually around three a.m.—when she does the only thing she can and spews words at the page in the hope of redemption.

HEATHER HAIGH: Two Sundays

Submissions, Touching, , , , , ,

Deckchairs sprawled around a bandstand, sunlight kissing polished instruments, twirling golden toffees unwrapping leisurely, a swelling oompa-oompa, and Grandpa’s age-spotted hand tapping his knee.

Huddled around a bed, lights dimmed, Mum kissing him, the slide of drooping eyelids, an irregular beep, and Grandpa’s hand, flutter-bird frail, tapping a waffle blanket.

Heather is a sight-impaired spoonie and emerging working-class writer from Yorkshire. Her work has been published by Fictive Dream, The Phare, Free Flash Fiction and others. She has won competitions with New Writers and Globe Soup and has been nominated for Best of the Net.

HEATHER HAIGH: Planet Humpty Dumpty

Artistic, Odd, Submissions, , ,

Led ever forwards by sticky-pawed bears, grizzled and fat, a March of hares—we lollop towards tomorrow—madness beckoning and no hats needed. Kiss my heels if you can.

Where the king’s horses and where the king’s men?

When the honey runs dry, the bears growl deep in their bellies.

Heather is a sight-impaired spoonie and emerging working-class writer from Yorkshire. Her work has been published by Fictive Dream, The Phare, Free Flash Fiction and others. She has won competitions with New Writers and Globe Soup and has been nominated for Best of the Net. Find her at haigh19c.wixsite.com/heatherbooknook.

HEATHER HAIGH: Together

Adventure, Artistic, Submissions, ,

Come the witching hour, the nightmare is upon us. Alone, we cower. But in the darkness, we sense others screaming, others quivering, others ready to join the fray. We gather in shadows, exchanging whispers, honing secret blades. Tomorrow we fight together, upright beneath the sun. Together we become the nightmare.

Heather is a sight-impaired spoonie and emerging working-class writer from Yorkshire. Her work has been published by: Reflex Press, Pure Slush, Mono, A Coup of Owls, Free Flash Fiction and others. She has been nominated for Best of the Net.