There are few things as soothing to the soul as sitting on green grass in warm sunshine, not a care in the world, lazily watching cotton-wool clouds drift idly across an azure sky. If this scene is accompanied by a faint breeze infused with fragrant honeysuckle, the gentle lapping of a conveniently situated stream and a plentiful supply of cooling refreshments, then one is most likely close to experiencing the perfect summer’s day.
I’m reading an Austen novel at the moment. Who else finds whatever they’re reading influences how they’re writing?
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When the screaming wind is finally replaced by the sweet embrace of silence, when the snow comes to settle and the land is cloaked in a pristine whiteness rivalling the best artist’s canvas, that is the time of winter I like best. The air is achingly cold but still, and every breath is filled with the fresh scent of pines and a promise that all storms eventually come to pass, leaving behind a chance to start anew.
Asked my brother for an idea and he said ‘the crispness of a winter morning’ so I did the above. Will try to do shorts for the other seasons too 🙂
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I want to lean back in the evening breeze, against a balcony framed by the setting sun. I want to smell citrus on the air, kissed by a faint hint of tobacco. I want to feel my pulse quicken as your fingers entwine with mine, firm and sure. I want to hear the soft thrum-thrum-thrum of a guitar in the distance, weaving gently through the laughter and chatter in the street below. I want to dance with you, and for you to catch me when I stumble with a laugh, a little drunk – on excellent wine, yes, but mostly on happiness. I want you, on this warm, perfect, sultry evening. I want you, forever and always.
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One of the best things about being the quiet, average looking girl is the ability to blend into the background, unseen yet still present. Often, my classmates forget I am there, and that is how I collect the only type of currency truly valuable in high school – secrets. The power that comes with being an invisible puppeteer, pulling strings from unexpected places at my leisure, is intoxicating. At some point, enough people might start talking to each other and figure it out, but I doubt it. Secrets have a hold on people that stops them speaking of related issues as well, lest someone somehow guess – and therein lies, I think, their biggest power. Not fear of the reveal – rather, the fear that someone might piece together the clues one by one and figure it out for themselves. The way I think about it is this: the first is death by a single blow – the latter is death by a thousand cuts…
Binge watched Pretty Little Liars after the exams and pretty sure it has inspired the above 😉
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I’m back! My super scary exam is over and I have more time again 🙂
So the prompt was as above. I adapted it slightly and came up with the following. I think this one is more an excerpt than a standalone. Tried not to pack too much in and went with the flow.
The sound of a key turning in the door made Rita jump. She hastily put the photograph back inside the tin, replaced the lid and stared at the logo for a moment – ‘Finest Shortbread’ – with her mouth still hanging open in disbelief.
“Rita? I’m home!”
She leaped up, kicked the tin back under the bed with her foot and hurried out of her parents’ room. She slowed down on the other side of the door and closed the door as slowly as possible behind her.
“Hi, mum!” she called, crossing the hall and running down the stairs, a smile fixed in place. She needed time to figure out what to do about her discovery, but that would have to wait a while. Continue reading
I still remember the first time I visited the little library in my small home town. At six years old, I felt that it was a vast treasure-filled cave, and as I sat in the carpeted children’s corner with the rest of my class, I spent much of my time simply gazing around, slack-jawed and starry eyed.
There was no grandeur as such, the building being a modern, average ceilinged, purpose built affair. But it had several rows, filled with all kinds of books, which I noted when wandering around were labelled things like ‘historical fiction’ and ‘cookery’ and ‘art’…almost immediately the idea of growing up and being able to understand the contents of these sacred shelves, especially those bearing fictional works, became cemented as a primary goal of my existence. Continue reading
In the end, it was never about her, but me. Nobody stopped me from dancing – but she danced so well, all eyes drawn to her swaying hips and joyous expression, I gradually began to sit down more and just watch. I felt as though I was doing the right thing in joining others in their adoration, and ignored the small niggle saying otherwise, dismissing it as selfishness. The microphone always passed to me as well on the family karaoke nights, but she sang so well, with time I thought it best to just pass the mic along so that everyone could take pleasure in her voice for that much longer. That high school summer when we both qualified for the temp job in the library, I backed out of the interview so she could claim it, and told myself it was fine – she needed the experience. 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
Alright, so today’s post is a bit of a special one, because the friend with whom I do my ‘writing prompt exercises’ has recently joined the blogosphere and so would like to welcome him! Woohoo – do check out his awesome blog here 🙂 I am sure he will find the blogging community as supportive and inspiring as I have done so far!
Our most recent writing prompt exercise was ‘he led me down an alley…’ – yes, yes, a bit dodgy I know 😛 You can view my friend’s version here and below is mine – enjoy! Very light-hearted one this week, hope it makes you giggle as much as I did whilst writing it… Continue reading
Hello! I’ve started a new job since returning from my travels and have been settling into a new apartment. Hence, there has been another long gap in posts. However, I recently started discussing writing exercises with a friend again and so here is a new post, hopefully to kick of a new era in which I post more regularly on here once more, as I did back when I started the blog – for real, this time.
This was supposed to be 500 words but to conclude it satisfactorily, I went quite a bit over. There was no time limit.
He sighed, and looked towards the sky. There was still no hint of any cloud, and the endless blinding blue stretched almost mockingly to meet the scorching earth at a slightly shimmering horizon. His head swam, both from the heat, and from ever growing fear. Continue reading