Latest Forum Posts:


Man Friday

To me you will always be Friday, because I met you on that day. I recall a line of shoe prints on a sawdust floor. How you crossed to where I sat, sleek as a parrot, on a stool in a Bristol bar. You touched my hand as I made the call. Then sheltered in our hired room, I tasted sweat, splashed on midnight skin.

Of course, I woke to find you hostage to the night. But the scent of sandalwood still lingered on the air, while down below, the slave ships weighed anchor in the bay.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright CallmeJayne 2020

To link to this story from your site - please use the following code:

<a href=""> Man Friday </a>

Comments (3)

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this story should be removed.