CaféLit magazine
Published in March were:
Wendy Beasley, Karla S Bryant, Charlee Chandler, Lynn Clement, Daniel Day, Lakis Fourouklas, Steve Gerson, Héctor Hernández, Sam Hutchins, Gill James, Rosemary Johnson, Louisa Prince, Sharmela Kalunzy, Henry Lewi, Lotte Ludh, Nils Melander, Sam Millar, Rob Molan, Benedict Pignatelli, Guy Pratt, Paula R C Readman, Gillian Silverthorn and Bea Smith.
Top performing posts in March were:
An Epic Journey by Graham Crisp, a nice cup of tea (263)
A son is unexpectedly summoned to his mother’s Devon home
The frost was starting to clear as a watery sun began poking its way through the morning clouds. I tentatively made my way across the tiny gravel-covered car park, trying desperately not to slip and injure myself. I successfully made it to the entrance of the station, which housed a now abandoned ticket office, and onto the deserted platform.
Dead and Buried by Sam Hutchins, The Graveyard Smash (263)
The fascination of the two skeletons was that they had been found lying on their backs in a shallow grave. The man and woman had seemingly died together and had been buried linking arms. Any evidence of organic material had long since disintegrated in the acidic soil. I was intrigued by the find: the stark grave, orientated towards the east, might be a Christian burial, but it was independent of any graveyard or church building. It might also be a pagan inhumation.
Memories buried in the hourglass by Louisa Prince, chamomile tea with a dash of honey (244)
Memories aren’t linear.
They’re like random pebbles cast into a pond, rippling outwards—linked through time—connected to our past in unusual ways.
I remember visiting my grandmother’s tiny studio unit, surrounded by mementos of her long life, and how each had a story to tell.
“Until she shared a bed, your mom slept in those drawers,” she’d say.
The Barn by Gillian Silverthorn, free spirit mocktail (228)
She moved to mid Wales with her husband, children, two bloodhounds and a saluki, rescued cats, giant rabbits, tortoises, snakes, chickens and a cockrell, some petite quails, and not to mention all the smaller inhabitants of their barn and the wildlife that is welcomed into the house. Their only neighbours are the elderly sheep farmer and his wife who seem to love their flock, although we all know their destiny.
Staying in their field in my camper van for a few days whilst on my travels it dawned on me how happy and content they seem to be, the beauty around them has to help. They walk slower and more relaxed than most folk I know, they take little interest in social media or the outside world.
The Replacement by Sharmela Kaluzny, Cup o' tea 161
Leah had become a collector of silences following her bout of sudden deafness.
The cause of her deafness was clear: Shock of…the doctor’s pen hovered a moment, before plumping decisively for the only word appropriate: bereavement.
The cure was less apparent. The medical jury was quite confident that her hearing would be restored, but were unable to say when exactly that would be. They recommended therapy. Luckily Leah’s sense of humour had a bent for the ludicrous.
‘Speak up,’ her therapist would say, Leah lip-reading. ‘I can’t quite hear you.’
We had a total of 184, 923 hits – slightly more than last month.