Alone on the empty dock, she removes her wedding band and fights the urge to hurl it into the sea. Bubbles rise and burst beneath her.
Just another fish.
Still, she peers further into the inky blackness and frowns at a floating handkerchief. She hopes she has used enough rocks.
Patrick Eades is a writer from Sydney, Australia. He is working on his debut novel. You can find more of his work at Patrick Eades – Medium.
She used to dream, once. Peace, love and unity. Beds for the homeless, futures for the poor. A daughter’s cooling hand upon earth’s fevered brow.
Over time, she dreamed of a different green.
Now, microphones creep towards her like weeds. She feeds them fresh manure and shuts her eyes at night.
Patrick Eades is a writer from Sydney, Australia. When not pondering failed political aspirations, he writes humour and fiction on Medium.com and is working on his debut novel. You can find more of his work at patrickeades.net.
I cast one last glance at the phone, still dark on the bedside table. My heart ached for it ring; my body willed it to stay silent. I let myself slip into the embrace of another, and watched the distance between us stretch beyond what two lost souls could repair.
Patrick Eades writes stories about people who are misunderstood, whose voices don’t get heard despite having something important to say. He has worked in the healthcare industry for nearly a decade, giving him a perspective into life, death and everything in between. His work is soon to be published in Idle Ink and Scarlet Leaf Review. He lives sandwiched between the National Parks of southern Sydney with his wife and dog, and has appeared in one film, where he played a drunken boxer with a strong dislike of DJs who think they can sing. He can be found at patrickeades.net.