Small Stone – from a writing exercise

Curling, twisted.
Frayed where you were
severed from your body.
Still damp
where once you held fast.
Part of a whole.
I feel how you know.
Where you lie
is where you will
Forever in my thoughts
is that moment my hands
pawed at your mud soaked skin,
doused you with water,
dried you
and set about you
with a sharp blade.
Cutting you neatly
and quickly.
In one movement.
My blade circled you.
You fell.
You are nothing but
skin now.
The body
now naked and secreting liquid
My blade hovers, glistening in the naked light.
My eye catches sight of you
curling, twisted
on the counter.
Just peel.
Quickly, I slice the body
into chips!

My writing exercise:

Write a poem about a bit of potato peel…


About malekmontag

I am a writer and a wage-slave, and proud father of George Giraffe. I live in the UK, but I exist everywhere. My first stories were published this year (2016) in Short Stories and Tall Tales (Atla Publishing). Follow me on Twitter @Malek_Montag15. My Work is also available on
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One Response to Small Stone – from a writing exercise

  1. SM Jenkin says:

    Excellent piece of misdirection, and use of words to build tension. You totally got me!


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