Blog posts about ’heart’

Love for life

Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on tuesday 12 february 2019

Holding Hands by Mores345


Sunlight flooded the room and enveloped nineteen year old Katrina and her grandmother in a golden hue. They were sitting at Grandma’s dining room table browsing through one of her old photo albums, when Katrina pointed out a faded photo of a young girl and boy holding hands.


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Lady of the Tower

Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on friday 11 january 2019

Montserrat by Josep Monter


She is my friend

As the late summer sun rose, its rays slowly filtering through the misty haze, Benedicto climbed steadily up the steep, rocky slope in the foothills just outside his village. After walking for an hour or so, the nonagenarian stopped to catch his breath. He looked into the distance to take in the magnificent view before him. While he rubbed at his grey, gristly beard, his mind wandered off to the days when he was a young boy.


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And the wind whispered - Episode 27

Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on wednesday 21 november 2018


Bottlebrush


Click here to read this story from the beginning!


Episode 27

The next morning, Deborah was woken from a deep sleep by her phone ringing loudly.

“Oh, blast,” she groaned drowsily while trying to grab it. She missed, sweeping it off the bedside cabinet and on to the floor. Reluctantly, she got out of bed, but it was too late. The moment she got hold of the phone to answer the call, it stopped ringing. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes with one hand, she swiped the screen with her thumb to see who had tried to contact her.


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You abandoned me

Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on monday 12 november 2018


Father by Lorraine Cormier


Gavin’s heart grew heavier with every step he took in the silent forest. The looming darkness of night seemed to reflect his gloomy thoughts. Thoughts and memories of his early childhood when he had taken a walk in the same forest with his late father. As he trudged onward through the red and golden autumn leaves that covered his path, he began to speak out loud as if he were composing a letter.


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All for One

Written by Wim Beunderman, posted on monday 15 october 2018


Nadab Lookout by pen ash

With a glum look on his face, the young Aboriginal hunter, Manimanuk, looked out over the plains from the rocky outcrop where he was standing. Angry words had been spoken earlier that morning in the camp of his people. To Manimanuk it seemed as if there were two camps. One, led by one of the elders, was determined to move on to better hunting grounds before the dry season came. The other camp felt it was better to wait until one of the mothers fully recovered after breaking her leg while foraging for yams.


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