Michèle Nardelli
Bio
I write...I suppose, because I always have. Once a journalist, then a PR writer, for the first time I am dabbling in the creative. Now at semi-retirement I am still deciding what might be next.
Stories (84)
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King of the barn
This is my space. Its dark but I am perfectly adjusted to this domain – I see everything. Padding softly between the ordered shelves, I know where every shiny chisel and crumpled tarpaulin sits. I know the curve of the old axe blades, the spotlights that peek out from a canvass that covers the old car.
By Michèle Nardelli5 years ago in Fiction
A Memory of Rain
That memory: the staccato drum on the old, corrugated iron roof of the shed, the rivulets forming in dust so dry, it was like face powder, and then, her mouth open as splashes of earthy rain hit her tongue, cold, startling, wonderful. That memory was so cherished – she inhaled these imaginings deep into her heart.
By Michèle Nardelli5 years ago in Fiction
A Line in the Sand
She clicks the mouse, and the laptop comes alive in the gloom of her kitchen. It looks at her, knowingly. “Yes, I am awake and ready for action, but you, you are set to spend another day procrastinating,” it accuses, as the home screen blinks open.
By Michèle Nardelli5 years ago in Motivation
A Line in the Sand
She clicks the mouse, and the laptop comes alive in the gloom of her kitchen. It looks at her, knowingly. “Yes, I am awake and ready for action, but you, you are set to spend another day procrastinating,” it accuses, as the home screen blinks open.
By Michèle Nardelli5 years ago in Humans
