Writing Prompt Exercise: Fortune Cookie

“Write yesterday’s fortune cookie. It got everything wrong.”

Er, might have missed the point of the above but it inspired the below short piece – enjoy!

Fortune cookies are funny things, aren’t they? They’re either ridiculously cryptic or they’re so simple they’re scoff-worthy.

Last night, I had the girls over for take away and mine said: “You will marry your lover”.

I, of course, had outwardly scoffed and inwardly glowed – that’s the other thing. If they’re what you want to hear, then you still get a warm fuzzy feeling. Continue reading

‘A mix of guilt and fear’

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

‘First betrayal – and revenge…’

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.
Continue reading

Poem draft: ‘Revenge’

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…

Unforgivable.

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

Entirely oblivious

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 🙂

Ro x

Poetry draft: ‘A Witch’s Visit’

I’m back!!! WordPress was banned in China but now in Hong Kong…see sidebar for the travel blog, there’s an update 🙂

Here’s a poem draft to kick things off! See what you reckon…I made up ‘Rivenbrook’ (or so I thought…I made it up using common bits of English village/town names) and a quick Google reveals it’s an electronics store somewhere, lol.

This is the first time in years I’m attempting to use rhyming verse to tell a story (last time was at school!), I’d like to get better at this, as I think it’s a really fun type of poetry!

A Witch’s Visit

On one fine golden autumn day,
When leaves turn red and brown,
A young witch did visit Rivenbrook,
’Til then a prosp’rous town.

Seeking to join the harvest feast,
She came not to trick or con,
But witches are of ill repute,
And the people wished her gone.

“You’re not welcome!” came the cry,
Not one man wished her there,
And they refused to hear her speak,
As she walked towards the square.

Her heart then filled with fury
At this unjust discourse,                                                        
And cursing all of Rivenbrook,
She left with no remorse.                                        

That eve a spark of fire,
Strayed too far and set alight
First one thatch, then another,
And soon the town burned bright.

The night was filled with terror,
And with dawn tolled the bell,
Survivors spoke in hushed voices,
Of the witch’s “wicked spell”.

No-one remembered their spite,
Or the witch’s affronted look,
And witches are still unwelcome,
In the remains of Rivenbrook.

My partner particularly didn’t quite think one verse flowed that well (he liked the concept/rest of it!), but I thought I’d put the whole thing out there as a draft and see what you guys think! The title is a working one also.

I am SO GLAD to be back and will be reading all of what I’ve missed soon on my favourite blogs 🙂 🙂

Thanks for stopping by!

Ro x