 signals by dj mac she had taken to her bed as they did in those days and there she lingered lace curtains kensitas and camay a dark wood dresser hairbrush and cold mirror these were her attendants a cottage flat but outside no rolling fields stiff stair rods creaking boards the smell of lavender tarnished tap dripping chime of the mantle clock marking the remaining hours she was thin of bone and spirit sharp in features speech her camberwick lay in folds like waves a burning cigarette in a stainless steel ashtray sending up signals but she waited in vain for rescue or redemption grandfather sat in the next room with a rack of pipes and cutty sark his slippers on the hard lip of the tiled fireplace white beard and rucked face brimming with sighs he winked now and then honouring happier times they say it was the illness her masklike face and tremor yet under leaden brows black eyes remembered her shaking hands smoothed ripples on the bedspread but the persevering past would not be stilled issue 3 dj mac mmm i can see her permalink submitted by kerry peterson not verified on march 31 2013 410 mmm i can see her artistic word choice that hits the mark thank you for sharing  reply 