Ireland's Descent

Niamh clambered down the rocks, grasping grass to ensure balance. Her eyes widened with adoration each time she peered over her shoulder espying tides crashing carelessly against bustling coral. To others it was an empty beach clinging to the base of Irish pastures, but to Niamh her struggle over the roughened pebbles opened the gates of Eden.

Her lens captured what she saw; pulsating amber beasts clinging to years of compressed life, silvery fish darting around with grand families and crabs working hard, hunting. Emerald weeds flowed through natural pools capturing the life of the sun. Images she trapped forever.

From Guest Contributor Kerry Kelly

Adam's Apple

“Where did you hear that? She asked, blonde hair peek-a-boo covering her naked breasts.

“An emergency meeting of Seraphim and Cherubim. I was passing by and overheard,” he responded. “You’ve passed that tree a hundred times. The one with the single piece of fruit at the very top. It looks like an apple. ”

“And it’s supposed to have magical powers?”

“The fruit. That’s what He said.”

“Nobody can climb that tree,” she insisted.

“The snake could. He could slither up. You could persuade him,” he winked.

“As soon as I finish hemming these fig leaves,” she winked back.

From Guest Contributor Reynold Junker