| Colin Dardis |
| Visions of Atlantic We wrestled a path up a Donegal mountain face and sneaked our way into an Atlantic view full of grandeur and sparkle, with walnut brown crags domineering Northern waves as they charged forth: crash of wildebeest, each trashing pure, white froth into unmoving cliffs. The ocean stretched out around us, dipping beyond the horizon, awaiting sunset, with Tory Island peeking down through the cloud at the smalt blue coastline. It was mid-Autumn, with the tarred front of cloud only lifting that morning. The wind was still cruel, but that sight, that shimmering clear, frozen sight, demanded us to stay. |
| Copyright 2007 Red Pulp Underground |
A Schoolbag Full Of Rocks This schoolbag heaves with unread books: tomes for learning, for display, for keeps. Nine years old, carrying his father’s Introduction to Philosophy. It is a word that suggests nobility, prestige, the accomplishment of education. This book, the philosophy tome, is no playground ammunition: it does not impress friends, conquer the taunt of bullies or attract girls. It is for teacher’s admiration only, the quiet wonder of children and their efforts. |