Five minutes later…

It was a monstrous mistake

The earth mover mounted the middle barriers and mowed down the Nissan Micra.

Five minutes later and all would have ended well.

Instead her bloodied hands on the steering wheel, airbags inflated windscreen broken

Laughter lost amidst the debris of a terrible double tragedy.

 

Can I buy you a drink you look like you need one?

She laughed nervously as he set the glass in front of her,

His charm left her glassy eyed and lost at sea.

Five minutes later and it would have been someone else at the bar, someone else he would have warmed his hands on

Her soul would have been free.

 

© Alison Jean Hankinson

How our lives and futures hang in a balance that is so often beyond our control is something that mesmerises me. For good or bad it can be a split second either way that makes the difference and then we must ask ourselves is this all by chance? Who rolled the dice?

This is my offering for d’Verse open link night.

 

 

 

 

 

Mirror me….

Two faces of me

New fragmented disturbed thoughts

Spring sings silently.

 

The image is of Amy H Parker who was admitted to Whittingham Asylum. This is part of the Whittingham Lives project exploring the past of Whittingham Asylum. I was intrigued by the images and the use of the mirror in many of them, apparently, it was to enable the staff to become familiar with the different profiles of the patients.

©Alison Jean Hankinson

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