Tag Archives: hope
Branches stripped bare reveal its black shadow against the pale grey sky. A Spring-built, careful little bundle of sticks, moss and hope. Now it hangs abandoned, its usefulness spent, waiting for its time to come again.
A woman bustles past him in a hurry. His tail wags halfheartedly as she passes, hoping for a friendly pat. He looks crestfallen for a second, then resumes his watch on the shop door.
He lies on the dashboard, his back pressed against the windscreen. His head flops disconsolately onto his front paws. His sorrowful eyes gaze at the pub entrance, all hope lost. A fog of depression fills the parked car.
It looks so shiny and new. A deep chestnut-brown bench. Yet it sits on the bed of chipped-stone gravel we made for it as if it’s been there for ever. Our hope of a summer days outside resides in its … Continue reading
In the entrance sits a woman in a wheelchair. She looks thin and grey, holding a small cup of water in her hand. Our eyes meet and we smile. A moment of human contact, comforting for us both, I hope.