Emre Grub

Joined May 2021

9 stories

Bio

Writer, based in the Lake District, UK.

Curious? Take a look here:

https://www.scribbletown.wordpress.com/

and here:

https://www.emregrub.wordpress.com/

Stories (9)

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Can I be honest with you? Ten months ago I thought about killing myself. It was only fleeting and it was enough to scare me into doing something about it, but it was there. This is the first time I’ve written about it, mainly because I'm still processing it myself: why did I, with no history of mental wobbles and as someone who’s always been calm and in control of everything in his life, stand on a bridge at three in the morning and consider throwing myself into the river? It's an ongoing process. Even as I sit here tapping on the keyboard I constantly pause for reflection, trying to tease out the reason from a tangle of half-understood emotions.
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Confessions
Watermelon
The juice ran down our chins and stained our clothes - pale pink polka dots, like summer flowers. With sun and sea, and sand between our toes,
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Poets
'Cockles' & 'Shrimps'
Cockles cockles with dad in a white paper cone varnished with vinegar pepper a toothpick the sun eaten one-by-one with a grin
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Poets
Samphire Picking
You can find it by the shoes – neatly placed pairings perched atop tidal-wall rocks socks poking out a peppering of sand on their soles
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Poets
The Long Walk Home
It's about three miles, give or take though it never seemed that far not at the time with beer in the blood banter to push us along
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Poets
On The Beach
A one-handed effort, our heads squeezed together to fit in the shot. Gurning faces, all tongue-in-cheek, metaphorically – or not.
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Poets
Isabel
When you cut through the water your hair splayed behind you like silk sheets in the wind and the sun warming droplets on your darkening skin
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Poets
A Dead Horse Distraction
She stares staunchly left, Her Maj, never right - as if to turn might break her russet-faced watch over Envelopeland and the whole five-line empire would crumble.
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Poets
A Dead Horse Distraction
She stares staunchly left, Her Maj, never right - as if to turn might break her russet-faced watch over Envelopeland and the whole five-line empire would crumble.
By Emre Grub5 years ago in Poets

Emre Grub

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Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(9)

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Watermelon

'Cockles' & 'Shrimps'

Samphire Picking

The Long Walk Home

On The Beach

Isabel

A Dead Horse Distraction

A Dead Horse Distraction

Stories (9)