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Jo MK Smith


Living on a narrow boat and writing for pleasure, poetry and short stories.

Latest Drabble


For the first time, I opened my eyes. I felt happy and played tag with the breeze. It caught my breath and tickled my face before dashing away. But there had been great sadness. For 'she' came and cut down my cousins before laying them in a raffia coffin, their burnished gold faces catching the sun's rays one last time. A stillness spread amongst us, the breeze pausing to pay its last respects. I whispered "Mother, why them?" "Their colour," she replied sadly. Dusk fell, the rain cried. We bowed our heads, feeling helpless at the hands of the assassin.

Nothing to see here.