Happy New Year folks! 😀
Starting 2016 off with a traditional writing prompt exercise 🙂
So this one has ended up, I feel, a scene that would be near the start of the story rather than an excerpt lifted from the middle. I think it just about works as a stand alone too. Hope you enjoy!
The tea had gone cold, as usual. Gina sighed, and picked up the mug from the desk.
“Marc, you haven’t touched your tea,” she said quietly. She didn’t get a response, but then, she hadn’t expected to. When Marc was poring over his research, he entered his own world, a universe separate from the reality around him. He forgot to eat, to drink, even to acknowledge his family, much less engage in meaningful conversation with them. Continue reading
To be read in conjunction with ‘First betrayal…and revenge‘…
The only reason I come to the half-open window in the first place is because the wind is swooping through it with unseasonable force for this time of year, and when I catch sight of you next to the car, I freeze. A familiar, nauseating mix of guilt and fear envelopes my heart and a constellation of memories flits through my mind – embraces that have lost their warmth, your earnest protestations that everything will be just fine, a long-sought-for spark as her lips meet mine for the first time. The world quietens and slows for just a moment, as you raise a lit match – and then it speeds up again with a terrifying clarity. As you flick the match and I scream, anger enveloping fear, I realise that I have known from the very beginning what you are capable of. Continue reading
As I strike the match, it makes a soft hissing sound, a bit like she made when she caught sight of me in your doorframe, home a day early to surprise you. I watch the flame sputter and flicker against the howling wind for a few seconds and realise I cannot remember what happened between that moment and now – rage has rendered me amnesic. But as I give the match a casual flick towards the rainbow-tinted moat surrounding your precious ‘wheels’, I know I will remember the satisfying sound of your scream from the upstairs window forever.
When I read your words on the monitor, insultingly written in shorthand, for a split second my lungs seem to stop working and I’m drowning, gasping for air – and then the tears come, unbidden, unwanted, but they come all the same. I slide down the door onto my bedroom floor and my body becomes a barrier to others, for the moment, until the storm in my mind settles to a gentle, steady rain. Then I will accept the embrace of those who mean well and will assist in soothing the dull ache you have left in my bones. Continue reading
When I am waiting for you on our corner, hopping from one pretty heel to the other, humming our song under my breath, checking my lipstick in my brand new compact, I feel as though my heart has new wings it has not quite learnt to use – and when you appear, smiling just for me, one hand raised in a wave as the other runs through your decorum-defying hair, they beat a little too strongly and I blush, my greeting catching in my throat.
of a flower
Brilliance, colour, and life,
Reflecting water, light, and space –
All that made
Okay so this is really similar to a previous post.
I think the rather pathetic origin of my obsession with flower metaphors derives from Continue reading
The next piece was written very freely. I did not follow a prompt. I just started with a clearing in the woods, very typical sort of setting used in many stories, and then went where my mind took me. I tried, once I realised where it was taking me, to simply get inside her head, to go with the flow of her thoughts.
It’s just a small clearing in the woods behind the ruined house that was once home, but it is everything.
I come here to rest, to dream, and to plan a life I may never know. I don’t know how the soldiers do not know of this place and I do not care because as soon as I start to wonder about how the soldiers operate I get angry. When I am angry I cannot rest, dream, and plan. Continue reading
Rambling musings on love and sweet things 🙂
The touch of your hand
A hot cup of tea
On a busy, rainy day,
Warming my heart
Soothing my soul. Continue reading
I could not bring myself to write the actual prompt in the title, and ‘bullying’ still aptly describes the theme of the first half of the piece below, which I automatically wrote thinking of young-girls-who-have-just-crossed-into-adolescence as the audience – just to bear in mind when reading 🙂
Er, the actual prompt was provided by my ever-so-helpful partner, to whom I said: “C’mon, give me a prompt, I need to write more, and could do with a prompt exercise!” Continue reading
So in the whirlwind of travelling I am neglecting this blog – not good! I promised I wouldn’t, but the days slip by so fast, and then suddenly I realise I’ve not posted in over a MONTH?! Many, many apologies…
Here’s a poem to disperse the tumbleweed.
Loving words roll off a lilting tongue,
Slipping him sweetly into her waiting arms.
He is floating, feeling forgiven, and is
To her waiting gun.
I hope after this one in turn to post a sequel from mum’s point of view to this and then one of those awesome 50 word stories I keep seeing cropping up here and there. At least a post a week. There, I’ve committed now! I will try super hard to stick to the plan!
Thanks so much for stopping by. Suggestions / comments on this one especially welcome as still in draft form. At some point (e.g. a year after commencing blog, like an anniversary thing) will accumulate draft poems and do a post of improved versions 🙂