Backwards and Forwards (With Links!)

It struck me recently that, things having become busy towards the back end of the year, I haven't mentioned a couple of recent publications here to date.

First off, I was extremely pleased to have a couple of short poems published as a result of my participation in Three Line Thursday this year- first off, twice over in Light Lines, an anthology full of superb, compact three line poems stemming from photo prompts posted throughout the year due to an unexpected win at the competition website one week and, secondly, in Flash Fiction Magazine due to a "Special Challenge" win for the week.

I was also lucky enough to secure a second win over at Angry Hourglass for the year, which I hadn't
really expected.

Even more surprisingly, I managed to secure a win over at Flash! Friday during the final week's contest - a competition I had always genuinely thought placing for would prove a feat impossible, having seen the superb standard of entries for week after week.

It was also lovely to be blind placed as winner by Dragon Team 8, with one half of the judging team (unknowing prior to having e-mailed the results in) being a fellow Poised Pen member !

Given my win was the last for the competition prior to Flashversary and, sadly, the competition's closure, Rebekah was kind enough to waive the word restriction for first time winners and allow me to expand on the interview questions posed.  If you so wish, you can read the final interview here .

I'm really proud to have my Winner's Page on the website alongside such talented writers!

Finally, I have also been working on three flash fiction stories which will be published as part of the Flashdogs ' third anthology (Volume Three), in due course.

(Image Credit goes to the very talented Tam Rogers ).

Sins of the Flesh (Flash! Friday)

Joan Crawford & John Gilbert: publicity photo for the film "Four Walls", 1928 Public Domain Image in the US

Sins of the Flesh

The coffin lies length-wise along the mahogany table, glass to one side, bowl the other, lights dimmed.

“Take your leave,” I say.  “Close your ears.”

The dark haired man leaves quickly, avoiding my eyes – fumbling the mental into my hand.

I drain the vessel in one draught, placing the grubby coin in my pocket; tribute paid to the old ways.

"Free yourself," I say.  "Rest easy."  He won't hear.  The hunger rises through my gut, riding me roughshod.  "Damn."  My mouth descends; ravenous.

I gag - stale ash and sweat on my tongue - swallowing to keep it down, afterwards, before opening the door.  

"It's done," I say to the client, brow creased.  "He'll pass now."  The man nods, without asking.  They never do, after dinner.

The cough threatens premature regurgitation at the entance.  I'll reunite it with its owner later.  Money is an unfaithful mistress.  Some sins have an altogether price.



Ed to Add:-  This one received an Honourable Mention this week.

Lord and His Lady (Flash! Friday)

Lyme Part House & Estate CC2.0 photo by Purpura Mare Asinus

Lord and His Lady

Lord lives – seventh of seven times seven before him half-hearted.  His Lady took his thumping whole, instantaneous, while he held still willing.  Now, the Eve the Year Dies is upon him, a multitude of little deaths gone before; blood sucked from its protective layers around his bones by his lady’s lips.  He holds no regret.  The hollow it should reside in has no beating inhabitant.  

    

Lady was hearty, laughing whilst life sustained her, duly bound, its beating within her fist.  Lord is her promise to herself, self-gifted – though their contract was written between marrow margins long ago, had he but known it.  Some things are as she wills it.  She is tired now; tithe falling due.  All things must end.  Men though – mortal - live in the moment.  Licking her mouth, Lady summons her Lord to his final standing.

Lord’s skin was sold at birth, time ticking afterwards.  He answers at All Hallows, son for father, as did son from father before him.  Half a heart for a future functions well enough.  Thus, Earl, eloquent, escaped his lover’s arms without compunction, to answer to another’s call.  Time, irresistible, reaped its tithe on him.  Lord still lingers.

Lady savours sucking Lord’s soul from its moorings; his life having no need for it, once wholly consumed.  Lord ponders their partnership, deceased, eyes downcast.  Head raising, he turns away from her.  He gave love freely.  Bad bargaining cannot catch hold, where its central sacrifice is missing, though she has had his heart from him.  Time take him, too, instead.  All things must end.        

Comment

This week's book prompt was Sherlock Holmes "Hound of the Baskervilles".  I wrote about a lord under a family curse and themes of cunning/(lack of) guilt.  The story had to be between 240 and 260 words.

Ed to add: This one received a Special Mention for the week as "Master of Language" - and a comparison to "Beowulf", no less! Really pleased to receive such wonderful feedback - especially given there were so many fantastic stories this week too.

Barabashka (Flash! Friday)

Scene from "Anna Karenina" , 1914 Russian film by Vladimir Gardin (via Flash! Friday)


Barabashka

Barabashka is wailing, from below, though I broke bread and salt pieces last night after he pinched – sharp - to prompt them from me.   I hold blankets tight over my ears, to no avail.  His neglect grows louder, penetrating my covered hollow.  Bruises the length of my arms, throbbing, I creep through his domain; rules drawn dusky in reminder on the hearth.  We guarded one another once; before. 

I spy traces of his finger marks as gusts extinguish the candles, swift. The stove is unlit, tonight.   I shuffle, slowly; sound a guide as I shiver onward.  Pitch prevails as I grope into the unknown.  He has not abandoned post – this I know.  There is yet a way to tell what follows.  I feel for his form, as Mama told me – to feel his hand in mine.  Ice answers me, fur freezing.  Eyes watering, I hug myself hard; inevitable cold comfort.

Comment

The challenge this week - based, unsurprisingly, around "Anna Karenina" was to take two of the elements from the text and produce a piece of flash fiction.  I chose conflict and tradition.  The piece needed to be 100-150 words.

This received an Honourable Mention this week, which I was extremely pleased to find out!

Part Of The Sum (Flash! Friday)

Construction of the Statue of Liberty's Pedestal CC2.0 photo by National Parks Service, Statue of Liberty c.1875 (via Flash! Friday)

Part Of The Sum

One set of skinned knees in shorts.  Two long socked legs hop – jump – skip.  Year Three of six, added to, equalling Eleven Plus.  Percentages determine geography’s equation, history recorded.  Divided, two part - their sum presently unknown.  One minus one is one.

Two promise as one, united faithful before their countless congregated.  Twinned rings are exchanged, separate inscriptions catching the light.  Confetti mingles afterwards amidst her dark hair.  Three tiers of carefully constructed confectionery stand tall mid table by evening.  Two added are one.

Three form from two - wails announcing his arrival.  Paired smiles contrast with intermittent cries, interspersed with sleepy silence.  Blankets swaddle tiny tufts sprouting from an as yet misshapen head.  He is held two armed, encircled by four.  Two multiplied is three.

Two stand as one, dark clad arms holding each other, apart from a crowd.  Four trickling lines of moisture glisten across their faces, as they stand before a lone marble tablet bearing two dates, mere digits apart.  Two minus one leaves two.

One faces one, the table separating them.  He puts his pen to the paper, scrawling.  “I’m can’t anymore,” he says.  Brow furrowed, she shakes her head – pauses - signs - without meeting his gaze.  Divided, two part.  One minus one is one.

Comment

A 210 word piece for this week's Flash! Friday, which had to incorporate the above photo prompt and the theme of "defeat".  This one proved quite tricky to write, given each paragraph had to be exactly 42 words long to allow for the deliberate increase and then decrease in number from paragraph one through to five to add to the sense of loss at the conclusion.

Ring of Fire Award (Flash! Friday Fiction)

Having posted consecutively over the past three weeks at Flash! Friday, I've successfully obtained the new and super sparkly "Ring of Fire" badge as a reward for my efforts.  It seemed appropriate to celebrate that with a blog post to commemorate the occasion!

Mission of Faith (Flash! Friday)

Caution: Radiation Controlled Area. Creative Commons 2.0 photo by Oleg (via Flash! Friday Vol-2-47)


Mission of Faith

There isn’t much time.  You feel it.  You jump bodies before you; some already behind.  The ground is littered, as you scramble, losing purchase.  It is through the small doorway.  Caution all who enter.  By doing, you may die.  By not doing, you will die. 

Your fingers are shifting as you move - pushing – pulling - forwards – backwards - thrusting obstacles away.  You are accessing hidden strength; knowing it won’t last – that it drains your energy levels.  You hope to see the door designated “authorised personnel”.  You need to see it soon.

You wish you’d purchased maps but you had to choose between two options.  You went for the other and hope it counts.  A wrong choice means you lose your life.  You must not fail your mission.

Now you see it; the hooded habits already assembled in front.  First, defeat them to reach the missile silo.  Then you’ll open the door to the final level to disarm the reactor. 

Comment

Another piece for Flash! Friday in response to the photo prompt above.  The word prompt/task this week was to include a monk in the piece.  Somehow, I started thinking about gaming and came up with this slight twist on the "nuclear" scenario.

Exercise of the Heart (Flash! Friday)

Circus clowns visit sick boy.  CC public photo Boston Public Library (via Flash! Friday)


Exercise of the Heart

He is there in the morning, when passing.  Heather shudders at the painted grin-stroke-grimace, frozen in place.  She can take living statues.  Clowns, she dislikes.  His hand stretches towards her.  She quickens her pace, leaving him standing.

Random route or no, he is there – muted - the next day; silver replacing carnival colouring, save a specific cluster of pink.  Looking more closely, lingering, she spots it clutched between metallic fingertips – the crimson paper fluttering with the wind.  His arm reaches, mutely.  Brown eyes look into hers.  A single black tear drop hangs mid cheek.  Then there is a quirk of the mouth; an eyebrow raised; suggestive.

Despite herself, Heather is smiling slightly.  She knows what will be on the cut out he holds.  It mirrors the make -up marks drawn onto his chest.  An excised heart; painstakingly precise in the drawing.  Digits marked across its length.  Silently proffered.  Despite questionable taste in dress, perhaps she’ll give this joker a chance.  

Comment

My second effort for Flash! Friday this last week.  I deliberately took this one in a completely different direction, given I'd gone "dark" for the original entry.  Funnily enough, the dark one got more comments!

The Guessing Game (Flash! Friday)

 Circus clowns visit sick boy.  CC Boston Public Library. (via Flash! Friday)

The Guessing Game

Clown Face laughs, the sound muffled by the latex mask hiding his features.  “We’re going to play a game,” he says.  “You want to play, don’t you?  We want to play with you.”

Cal shakes his head – or tries.  His body is uncooperative, though he is conscious now.  That’s a start, he thinks, twitching muscles at the corner of his eyes.  His limbs remain leaden.  For now, Cal surmises.  

“Play time!” Clown Face says, clapping gloved hands together.  “You can meet my friends now.  We’ll play guessing games.”  Cal hears a click as, presumably, a door opens.  His head is angled so he can’t see.

“Which first?”  Clown Face asks, red lips passing Cal’s eye line.  Silence, before he speaks again.  “Too slow!  For that, you’ll miss part of the fun.”   

Suddenly, Cal can’t see.  He thinks he, too, is masked.  “It’s called Operation!” Clown Face says.  “Let’s play together!”

Cal doesn’t need to see to know what comes next.

Comment

One of this week's entries for Flash! Friday - couldn't resist adding a reference to "Operation" into it in a different context, given the word prompt was "surgery"...

Due Service (Flash! Friday)

 Typhoon Maid Thursday. CC photo by Shuji Moriwaki (via Flash! Friday)


Due Service


Shi stands, black clad, before the water’s chill.  Bronze has crossed the coin-eyed’s palm to dive their depths already – servitude now due.  It is hers to perform; the nine time circle into pain’s swamp, past drowsy oblivion; beyond fire and wailing.  Hers to see that he drinks of the infernal rivers; brackish and brine filled, pre return; cup filled to the brim.  He will choke at their taste; a spilled splutter.  It will be enough, even so.  Pitch unremitting at the epicentre, repetition will suffice to see them to the surface, though the journey is longer in the making now, each time.  He will not remember the struggle; scarce still Shi’s name when waking, coughing, atop solid rock.  He will not know the cost for his return; the price paid to swim within the realms.  He will not recall the salt sodden tears shed into his glass.  He will never know she exchanged a portion of her life for his.

Comment

A second piece for this week's Flash! Friday, given I had another idea after writing the first story and couldn't resist writing the second one down.  Think there's a longer story in this one too...

The Vigil (Flash! Friday)

Typhoon Maid Thursday. CC photo by Shuji Moriwaki (via Flash! Friday)

The Vigil

Wednesday wanted to be buried at sea.  They obliged, setting him to sail, then sink, beneath the water’s lapping.

“Should’ve been me,” Thursday said, watching the surface; still post-submergence.

“Wouldn’t’ve worked,” Tuesday answered.  “It’s as it needs to be.” 

“Still – never let it be said you haven’t had your use here.”  Friday’s eyes remained turned towards the water.

“We agreed!”  Thursday’s voice was sharp.  “You couldn’t have called the storm!”

“Wouldn’t have,” Friday said, eyes hard now; stare unremitting.

“Wednesday’s choice, ultimately.  As always,” Tuesday said.  “Guess I’d want to switch things up by now; hang tradition.  Maybe.”

Friday’s eyes turned towards the one-handed man to her side, eyebrows raised.

“Sjaund, anyone?” Sunday interjected, smile determined, raising a liquor filled bowl, contents swimming from the sides.

“Too early yet, surely?” Monday said.

Sunday shrugged, sipping.  “Won’t be long.”  

“It’s time,” Saturday interjected, eyes cast out into the distance.  Faces pointed forwards now, together the family watched; expectant of his emergence.

Comment

Written for Flash! Friday Vol-2-42.  This week's challenge was to include a death within the story.  Somehow this transformed into the story of the gods behind the days of the week and a differing slant on Odin's vigil... 

A World of Waiting (Flash! Friday)

Krak des Chevaliers/Qalat al-Hosn, Syria. CC photo by Jon Martin (via Flash! Friday)


A World of Waiting

John shut the curtains on both view and sun.  They were for later.  It had seemed simple at first.  So few words to create; a minute – micro - task, really.  Instead, he was staring at the current blank page, sitting in silence, wishing he were anywhere but shut away from distractions, waiting for the whispered words to rescue him, crumpled papers mounting in the bin by the bed.  They were slow at it, though he knew they would be there.  They always were, somewhere, hidden away.  Until then, he and the room were wed together; the simple proposal – proving anything but - accepted on opening the door.  He would not leave his world of waiting until they were documented.  Only then could he consider other offers.  Tempting though they might be, he would prove himself faithful.  He hoped they would hurry though.  He wasn’t keen on the concept of a forever commitment, vow aside.  He liked life outside four walls.  

Comment

160 slightly tongue in cheek words for this week's Flash! Friday prompt.  The challenge this week was to include a marriage proposal within the story.

Silent Struggles (Flash! Friday)

1896 Olympic Marathon.  Public domain photo by Burton Holmes.  (Via Flash! Friday)

Silent Struggles

We have been at war now for a while, you and I.  Struggling silently; fighting for precedence.  Have come at last to know each other intimately, one with each other, as you coax me towards your finish line, sweat browed and queasy.  I will not rush to get there.  I know how this race ends.  Still, sleep shuts you out, sometimes – until I wake again to light.  Once more round the track, perhaps?

Our exertions have pared me to planes and edges; a featherweight run ragged by the battle; not yet down and out for the count.  Not beaten.  Not yet, my corporeal competitor.  Not yet – thought I lag behind a little, breath rattling.  You are in front, back to me – a challenge in target.  To reach.  To move beyond.  A marathon endurance without training enough to accomplish the feat, so it seems.  I am no Olympiad, I know.  Your path stretches out before me.  Still.  I crawl forwards.

Comment

My entry for Flash-Friday-Vol-2-40.  This one received an Honourable Mention and lovely feedback, which made for really pleasant reading.  I really didn't expect to place, considering how many great stories were submitted!

Work In Progress (Writing Process Blog Tour)

I was honoured to receive an unexpected DM from the decidedly talented Jacki Donnellan requesting permission to co-opt me for the current Writing Process Blog Tour as one of her three writers whose work she enjoys recently – especially given how much I enjoyed her recent Angry Hourglass winner "I Serve" and the incredibly powerful and moving "Cynthia".  Add to that her impressive record over at Flash! Friday and fact that her micro poetry has recently been distributed at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival (other publications aside) and I can only say thank you, given I’m well aware of the number of talented writers she could have chosen to feature – especially given I’m a relative newcomer to the flash fiction scene in real terms.

In appreciation of the opportunity afforded to me, on with the questions, before giving a nod to several great writers I’ve had the fortune to happen across during my time online…

What Am I Working On?

At the time of writing this entry I guess I’m currently juggling a number of projects and/or have more than one potential project bubbling away at the back of my subconscious, waiting to steal the forefront away from other current writing.  

In an average week there tends to be a steady mix of Twitter based micro poetry and flash fiction based prompts – or so I’ve found to date, this being only a ten odd month work in progress in terms of consistent writing for prompt/website/Twitter/whatever.  

Presently pending is my story “Dealbreaker”, a horror/mythology/urban legend mash up, which will feature in "In Creeps The Night" as of 30^th September 2014 – just in time for Halloween!  Alongside my own tale, a couple of other writers whose names will be/may be familiar are featuring.  I’m very much looking forward to reading the stories from them in due course!

I’m particularly looking forward to the opportunity to write for my writing group The Poised Pen's first Halloween based (and international) flash fiction competition (fellow “flash dogs”, do you have your ideas at the ready yet? ;)).  I also have four or so short chapters of a novelette length YA story in first draft format and the beginnings of something holding out for a darker steampunk premise – probably also likely to end up at novelette length unless it gets carried away with itself!  

Ideally I’m also aiming to head back into the world of music prompts via Mid-Week-Blues-Buster, now the competition’s recently returned from what was previously specified as an indefinite hiatus.  Given the opportunity, I quite enjoy the chance to write something slightly longer than two hundred or so words, as a bit of a change of pace.  Also – there can never be too many fictional words (or indeed worlds!) shared between writers, surely…

How Does My Work Differ From Others Of Its Genre?

As a couple of the writers who’ve posted on this topic before me have mentioned, I’m another writer (albeit fledgling seeking to spread my wings compared to a number of others I might care to mention!) who tends to play out ideas off the back of my reading matter and viewing experiences.  I suppose this explains why I’m prone to jump from a Milford style crossroads demon story to poetry prose on Atlantis, resulting in a mix of stories and poetry, as opposed to sticking completely to one particular medium/genre/sub-genre, given I’ll read anything ranging from Shakespeare to Stephen King and Neil Gaiman, depending on my mood.  Experience to date suggests that’s a habit which reproduces itself in my writing, to an extent.  

Having thought about it a little for the purposes of the blog post and with @TheShakes72's previous comment on Twitter about “imaginative takes” on prompts in mind, I guess it would be fair to say occasionally I consciously “subvert” prompts by writing for them at a tangent.  That’s probably me deliberately trying to stretch myself as a writer and make progress, given I always know there’s plenty for me to make as a relative newcomer to writing!

The very kind @DonnellanJacki tells me my writing is poetic, which might result from the musical “aspect” of my head.  Aside from a love of music in general terms, I used to be involved in an orchestra, meaning I tend to “hear” my story’s/poem's cadences in my head, dialogue included.  Occasionally, this means I can also “hear” the right fit for the patterns and the rhythm clicks into place.  Obviously, that’s on a good day!

Why Do I Write What I Write?

Partially because my fellow “Poised Penner” @zevonesque made reference to a number of flash fiction competitions at meetings a while back (alongside reading his own work), beginning with Flash! Friday and I followed up on the website links and have carried on writing flash fiction ever since… 

I liked the concept of writing “small scale” with a designated number of words and – to an extent – the immediacy that would demand with deadlines in mind as a way of getting back into writing, given I’d been scribbling bits of things down since a relatively early age but never really written regularly on an ongoing basis.  Given I’ve also been known historically to muse on how and why fiction works, I suspect my love for reading translates directly into seeking to work with words myself and – hopefully - establishing my own connections with fellow readers somewhere along the way.

Opportunity to practice writing aside (and hopefully improve too!), it’s given me the chance to frequent a number of great websites and become part of active, continuously supportive writing communities - Flash! Friday and Angry Hourglass being some of the first ones I came across.  (The corner of the internet frequented by my fellow “Flash Dogs”, particularly – you know who you are, all of you -  seems to be going from strength to strength over the recent weeks!)  I’ve also posted reasonably regularly at Mid-Week-Blues-Buster and Office Mango's "Horror Bites" challenges, as well as for @Angela_Goff's VisDare photo prompt and previously at Trifecta and Race The Date.

I guess I like trying to maintain an eclectic mix in terms of the types of prompts I’m writing for at any given time and the type of story they are likely to inspire, because it forces me to write beyond the boundaries of my “default”, which tends to be spec fic – something I read (and thus reproduce in writing terms) regularly.   

How Does My Writing Process Work?

I actually wrote a “How I Write” drabble about this fairly recently for the The Poised Pen's third anthology "Half Baked".  In essence, it depends on the prompt and how it “speaks” to me.  For online poetry prompts I tend to scribble the word prompts down by hand and pick one or two on any given date that I think I can work with.  Mostly, I work them through on paper before they make it into type and onto Twitter.  Occasionally, this means I end up having to cut them down to fit the requisite number of characters! 

With photo prompts, I like to make sure I’ve taken a look at them at an early stage to allow an idea to develop itself.  If I’m really lucky, I’ll have an idea straight away – sometimes accompanied by a line of dialogue belonging to the story, which I end up writing down on paper.  Occasionally, if I’m pushed for time but have a story idea I want to see through to completion I can end up typing straight away onto the computer screen with a deadline looming!  There’ve also been a couple of occasions I’ve found myself writing towards a specific ending without necessarily knowing how I’ll get there but my favourite stories are definitely those that somehow seem to write themselves along the way and where I get to surprise myself with where I end up…

Introduction To 3 Other Writers

It goes without saying that there are any number of extremely talented writers who could feature here – and, indeed, a number have already been tagged previously – justifiably - as part of the tour.

L E Jamez

Twitter: @LEJamez

Blog: http://www.officemango.com

Laura is a fellow flash fiction writer and author of the collection of flash fiction stories "Kitchen Antics", as well as running the "Horror Bites" horror flash fiction challenge over at Office Mango.com.  She is also involved in the soon to be published flash fiction anthology "In Creeps The Night". 

Laura already has her writing process blog tour post up here.

Casey Rose Frank

Twitter: @CaseyCaseRose

Blog: http://www.caseyonpurpose.blogspot.co.uk/ 

Casey is a fellow “Angry Hourglass” contributor (and back to back winner!)   Read her wonderful winning story "Communing With Nature" here and “Farmer’s Market” here.  She writes everything from quirky humour to stories involving powerful, human emotion and I always enjoy seeing what she creates in response to any given prompt.

Ruth Long

Twitter: @bullishink

Blog: http://www.bullishink.org/

Ruth is a fellow Office Mango "Horror Bites" flash fiction contributor whose ongoing The 12th Paladin series (written for the site's prompt) I've really been enjoying.  She's also written for a number of anthologies, as well as being due for inclusion in the forthcoming "In Creeps The Night".  Additionally, she's working on an urban fantasy novella.   

Ruth already has her writing process tour blog entry up here. 

Civilisation's Pillars (Flash! Friday)

Gemini V, August 29, 1965, Public domain photograph courtesy of NASA (via Flash! Friday)


Civilisation's Pillars

Some say civilisation’s pillars are submerged beneath the surface, depthless deep devastated, if you dive down, their particulars preserved in red rock and crumbling concentric canals, pure white ivory at the heart.  Alien ancients of no place are held captive by the ocean’s sway; an isle overthrown, swallowed whole in silt slavery, their shattered city-soul secreted sunken beneath the host gulfs and eddies of a boundless continent.  Thus did decline and chaotic corruption bring their just ends full circle in chastisement within one day and one night in the first fight.  Now, year on year and with the turn of the tide the sea’s triumphant swell drowns out the ghosted warning whispers of the geographical fiction seeking to break their water bonds and rise towards liberation’s lights. 

They dwell there still in rumoured existence under muddy subsidence, a semi-forgotten nation.  One day they may make themselves heard by civilisation, so some say.  They hope not to be doomed to failure.  

Comment

This week's entry for Flash! Friday Vol-2-38.  The word prompt this week was to include an alien.  As opposed to including spaceships in the traditional sense, I took things in a slightly different direction and ended up writing prose poetry (ish!) concentrating on Atlantis...  That involved a bit of research too!

By The Book (Flash! Friday)

John Talbot's presentation of the Book of Shrewsbury to Queen Margaret of Anjou ca 1445 AD. Public domain, courtesy of the British Library Royal.


By The Book

They’d been told the ceremony would be strictly by the book beforehand; had the spiel on protocol.  Now, they were listening to words familiar yet foreign; not foreseen in the circumstances – at least, not today.  It had kind of been sprung on them.  Kelly thought she was a little young yet to be making her vows for forever - though she hadn’t been asked to voice an opinion – felt dwarfed by the tall priestly presence before them, bible at the ready.  James was shuffling sideways, hands in blazer pockets, increasing the distance between them, to the extent that he was able.  That was fine by Kelly, too.  If by some miracle he made it out the door, it would save them both from their coupled fate in the presence of witnesses who would never let them forget it.

“Do you..”

Soon it was over.  Married in name and taught her lesson, Kelly thanked God the Religious Studies session wasn’t binding.

Comment

My Flash! Friday Vol-2-35 entry.

Step By Step (Flash! Friday)

Photo by Lewis Hine National Archives Public Domain (via Flash! Friday)


Step By Step

Sweat coats Rose's brow as the sun beats upon it, whilst she labours, weighed down.  She bears the berry filled boxes at the crook of either arm; balance and counterbalance.  She has gathered all she can find.  She sinks further into the sand beneath her bare feet today, making it harder to gain purchase; to keep herself moving further and forwards, on towards home.  Her toes curl under; slip, slide and stumble, whilst her eyes watch their distant goal.  Soon, she tells herself.  Soon!  She will - must - get there; fairy steps or not.  She is - will be - waiting when she gets there.  Rose sets herself to counting, though she is countless after what would have been first, second or third.  She thinks she reaches several thousand.

"I have them," Rose says, into the contrasting cool of the homestead, as she crosses the threshold.  They are gathered, mute, by the bedside.  "But I fetched them!" Rose protests.  "So we could eat."

Comment

Another short piece of 160 words for this week's Flash! Friday competition.  The word prompt this week was "friendship".

Wish Fulfilment (Flash! Friday)

Photo Prompt - here.


Wish Fulfilment

The green goddess grants wishes to those she chooses, they say.  Blessing believers visit the legendary garden shrine daily in their droves to test the theory.  They cross her leafy palm with its freefall water flow with coin, hoping her lids will lift and she will smile on them as they kneel in supplication before her torso.  Gaia, too, hopes her namesake will look kindly upon her as she whispers her wanting into the tresses cocked to one side.  Seconds pass, with the queue long behind her.  The frond fingers close upon the offering, empty on the opening; no fall to freedom here.  The coin’s capture brings an intake of breath as the shrubbery shifts then settles, shape now clear to the eye.   The leaves lie longer on the grass, with starker contrast at the crown. 

The green goddess grants wishes to those she chooses, yet chooses freely from those who approach her alike.  Earth has called on her own. 

(160 words)

Comment

Another one for this week's Flash! Friday Vol.25 competition.  Everything stemmed from the idea of the green goddess and developed organically (pun intended) from there...

Paying A Flying Visit (Flash! Friday)

Letter Boxes, Area 51 Public Domain Photo by Martin Str. (via Flash! Friday)


Paying A Flying Visit

It has taken the Red Planeteers light years to reach the quarter-inch thick bulletproof metal box on its chipped pole – Black Mailbox 80, owner Steve Medlin, with its Master Lock and contradictions.  For a start it’s faded white; for another thing, it’s not used by Medlin, nor anyone else the hundreds who camp around and converge upon it and the Extraterrestrial Highway have ever seen.  The signs towards Rachel with their question marks are there for those in the know, though any activity takes place when they’re not looking.  Suggested sightings are delusional; sometimes placed to mislead and misdirect – misinformation at its best.

They often wish there was a more convenient drop box – somewhere around Deimos or Phobos, as opposed to Route 375.  It would be a sight easier – and cheaper - to sort interplanetary tax liabilities.  Still, if Area 51 showed on planetary positioning systems, perhaps the payment wouldn’t be perennially late.  They always take a wrong turn somehow.

(160 words)

Comment

It's been a little bit since a piece for Flash! Friday featured here.  This is my latest, requiring inclusion of unpaid bill as part of the prompt.  Went slightly tongue in cheek this week, which makes a change from the darker stuff which recent photo prompts generally seem to have been resulting in.  Loads of great entries over at the site for those who care to take a look!

The Calling (Flash! Friday)

Photo - Mill Creek Watershed 1949.  Public domain photo by Helmut Buechner (via Flash! Friday Vol 2-18)

The Calling

It is blinding; the light around her.  Brilliant white cushioning she struggles through, clogging her feet.  Kate knows she must be there.  Somewhere.  The reason is buried deep beneath the sludge.  She may find it before the end.

They call her home. She hears them, in the distance; knows she has strayed from her path.  Distracted by crystal facets; the graupel reflective of the world she knows   A myriad spectrum filling her vision – symmetry she must battle through.  She is late.  She knows it.  They tell her, in whispers.

Kate is saturated by it.  Precipitation clings to her; weighting her down.  Snow seeking to weld her to the floor; molecules attempting supercooling anew.  She must not form their nucleus.  Must break through the intricate barrier.  Beyond.

They need her.  Want her.  Her name.  Her summons.  She longs to answer.

The clusters break momentarily.  Kate strikes forth; wanderer with purpose.  Compass set.  Their love her guide.  Belatedly safe from threatening storm.

(160 words)

Comment

Did a bit of research for this one on snowflakes to keep the terminology (hopefully!) accurate.  Whilst it's deliberately a little ambiguous, I'd envisaged a scenario involving a bed ridden patient (whether by coma, illness or close to death, is subject to your own interpretation or spin on things) being talked to by her family.  In this instance, she hears their voices... 

The photo prompt is shown above.  The word prompt involved a missed appointment.  I interpreted that obliquely in my reference to Kate as being "late" in her return to consciousness.