200 words, make it happen, have fun, and don't forget to come back here and link to your post!
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
FLASH FICTION WEEK 2
I'm making Christmas cookies this weekend with my family. It's something we do every year. So I thought what better theme for this week than Holiday Traditions. Go nuts with it. Is there a conflict over the cookie batter? Did Aunt Suzie steal Aunt Minnies boyfriend in highschool? Why is Grandma's hair always purple?
Friday, December 6, 2013
FLASH FICTION FRIDAY. DEC 6TH
Rain pelted the flimsy umbrella. She stood alone beside the train tracks, allowing the mist to splash her face as she waited. Waited for the ending to change. Waited for him to return to her side and fulfill his promise. She wanted nothing more to do with the life beneath the stairs of the Lords and Ladies of the Ton. She wanted his loving arms to keep her warm at night. She wanted his passionate kisses to feed her hunger.
She stared down the tracks. Although the train turned into memory, his betrayal remained fresh. She had stood stupidly as he walked from her, with his sole ticket towards the train. She made no move to stop him, to derail her nightmare. He made no attempt to look for her through the window of his car as he took his seat. She watched. She hurt. She let the rain slap at her as the train pulled away. Her dreams, its cargo.
The rain fell harder. The man behind the ticket counter called to her, she ignored him. She inhaled slowly. His Lorship will be expecting his tea. She turned from the platform and made her way back down the streets of London. Back to her room beneath the luxury and happiness. She folded her umbrella and let the rain wash over her as she made her way home.
************************************************************
Please be sure to post your entry below in the link collector so we can all find you and enjoy your work.
Here's an entry for this week. I'm linking her entry here.
Here's an entry for this week. I'm linking her entry here.
Monday, December 2, 2013
Flash Fiction Week 1
Everyone suffers through writers block now and again. The urge to write and the wall preventing me sometimes is so frustrating I want to pull my hair out...not literally...I like my hair, but you get what I mean. So I've decided to start up this little practice session for myself and anyone who'd like to join me every week.
I'll do my best to post a picture or a topic with the "rules" for the week. I'm going to post my entry Friday morning. If you'd like to play along, just leave a comment on the post with the picture for the week letting others know where to find you.
So on with this week! The picture above is your prompt, your muse, a fiend, however you want to view it. Write a short blurb, story, poem, thought, whatever gets that hamster wheel spinning using 251 words.
I'm leaving it pretty open this week, hopefully once we have a few of us playing each week I'll add some challenges and restrictions. This week please have fun and join in, and don't forget to leave a trail so we can find you. If you don't have a blog of your own but want to participate, no problem! Just email me and I'll be happy to post your entry for you right here.
So...why are you still reading here....go....write...something!
Sunday, May 2, 2010
day 14
The clapping of the horses hooves against the pebbled road was the only sound Sarah heard as the small group continued their journey is silence. She shifted on her mare slightly to get a glimpse at her husband’s expression.
For three days he had said barely a word to her, merely grunting his responses when she asked him a question or giving very curt orders when he wanted her to get moving again. The first day after her little adventure had been a blessing with his silence, her ears still rang from his booming roar when he had at last found her. Three days; however, was getting to be a little excessive, she thought to herself.
She had already apologized to his men, who had to leave their warm beds and go in search of her misdirection. She had not intended to get lost in the woods; she would have made sure to tell someone where she was going if she was planning on making such a long journey. She had only meant to ride to the lands that bordered her husbands, a friendly meeting with the young woman who was mistress their, but a wild boar had drove her into the woods and although she managed to kill the beast and settle her horse without harming herself, she had also managed to get herself very lost in the thick forest.
She tried to find her way back to the main road but the sun, which had been her only light, was fading and she needed to find somewhere safe to make camp for the night. The next morning she went straight back to the task at finding the main road, but to no avail. Her horse, a wedding gift from her husband, was spooked by a sound and ran off when she was dismounting it, leaving her lying in a small puddle from the morning misting. Dirty, sore, and exhausted she continued her search, sure that she was going the right way.
“Do you have any idea the ciaos you have caused with your little ‘adventure’ as you called it?” her husbands booming voice brought Sarah’s attention back to the present. His arm wrapped around her narrow waist securely and hauled her from her mare onto his horse with such a fluid movement that she barely realized that she had been transferred. His glare told her to keep her tongue still as he veered his mount away from the his men, who sped their mounts away.
“They are going to leave us?” Sarah accused them. His chin bumped her forehead as he shook his head at her.
“We are safely within our borders now, they go to seek their beds and their families,” he threw in for good measure, her guilt weighed on her even more with his words. He drew his mount to a stop and quickly dismounted bringing her along with him. She didn’t have a chance to question him or protest, he simply grasped her arm and pulled her along with him to a large boulder. She adjusted her torn skirts around her scraped legs once she was propelled to a seated position on the bolder.
“I have thought about what you told me. You have need of a woman to be friends with, that is why you left the safe hold of our keep,” his large form began to pace in front of her, his hands locked behind him as he spoke. She nodded her response, noticing that he was referring to his home as theirs for the first time since their marriage. “I will send for your sister to come for a visit, but you will never leave our home again without speaking with me first,” his voice was back to booming and he had stilled his walk in order to glare down at her properly, he was disgruntled by the smile she granted him.
He had been terrified when he first found out that his wife had left the keep and no one knew where she went, and when he found out her mare was also missing he thought the worst. That first night when she was still not found, he pushed his men harder to search well into the darkness of night.
When they found her she had been hiding in a tree apparently trying to see the road. Her skirts were tattered, her knee had a horrible gash, and her unblemished face had several small scrapes on her cheeks from all of the brushes she had walked through. He had wanted to grab her and kiss the breath out of her, then he wished for nothing more than a moment of privacy in order to thrash her soundly. His men, curse their eyes, had known full well his wishes and would not leave him to it. Now that he had her full attention and the privacy he had wished, throttling her wasn’t what he wanted to do with her, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss the disobedience out of her.
“Thank you, I’m sure Winifred will love our home,” she grinned up at him, stood up and attempted to brush out her skirts a bit more. She patted his arm as she walked past him and said “It’s a new horizon for us, that’s what this is. A new horizon.” He wrinkled his brow at her words. “You have realized that it’s not your keep, or your lands anymore. It is our home,” she explained with a shrug of her shoulders and remounted her mare. Once she was settled in her mount she sighed contently to herself and looked over at him. His raised eyebrow told her that he wasn’t quite finished with her but the shake of his head told her that he wasn’t up for a battle either. He crooked his finger at her, beckoning her to his side. She gave a heavy sigh and slid from her mare once more…..
For three days he had said barely a word to her, merely grunting his responses when she asked him a question or giving very curt orders when he wanted her to get moving again. The first day after her little adventure had been a blessing with his silence, her ears still rang from his booming roar when he had at last found her. Three days; however, was getting to be a little excessive, she thought to herself.
She had already apologized to his men, who had to leave their warm beds and go in search of her misdirection. She had not intended to get lost in the woods; she would have made sure to tell someone where she was going if she was planning on making such a long journey. She had only meant to ride to the lands that bordered her husbands, a friendly meeting with the young woman who was mistress their, but a wild boar had drove her into the woods and although she managed to kill the beast and settle her horse without harming herself, she had also managed to get herself very lost in the thick forest.
She tried to find her way back to the main road but the sun, which had been her only light, was fading and she needed to find somewhere safe to make camp for the night. The next morning she went straight back to the task at finding the main road, but to no avail. Her horse, a wedding gift from her husband, was spooked by a sound and ran off when she was dismounting it, leaving her lying in a small puddle from the morning misting. Dirty, sore, and exhausted she continued her search, sure that she was going the right way.
“Do you have any idea the ciaos you have caused with your little ‘adventure’ as you called it?” her husbands booming voice brought Sarah’s attention back to the present. His arm wrapped around her narrow waist securely and hauled her from her mare onto his horse with such a fluid movement that she barely realized that she had been transferred. His glare told her to keep her tongue still as he veered his mount away from the his men, who sped their mounts away.
“They are going to leave us?” Sarah accused them. His chin bumped her forehead as he shook his head at her.
“We are safely within our borders now, they go to seek their beds and their families,” he threw in for good measure, her guilt weighed on her even more with his words. He drew his mount to a stop and quickly dismounted bringing her along with him. She didn’t have a chance to question him or protest, he simply grasped her arm and pulled her along with him to a large boulder. She adjusted her torn skirts around her scraped legs once she was propelled to a seated position on the bolder.
“I have thought about what you told me. You have need of a woman to be friends with, that is why you left the safe hold of our keep,” his large form began to pace in front of her, his hands locked behind him as he spoke. She nodded her response, noticing that he was referring to his home as theirs for the first time since their marriage. “I will send for your sister to come for a visit, but you will never leave our home again without speaking with me first,” his voice was back to booming and he had stilled his walk in order to glare down at her properly, he was disgruntled by the smile she granted him.
He had been terrified when he first found out that his wife had left the keep and no one knew where she went, and when he found out her mare was also missing he thought the worst. That first night when she was still not found, he pushed his men harder to search well into the darkness of night.
When they found her she had been hiding in a tree apparently trying to see the road. Her skirts were tattered, her knee had a horrible gash, and her unblemished face had several small scrapes on her cheeks from all of the brushes she had walked through. He had wanted to grab her and kiss the breath out of her, then he wished for nothing more than a moment of privacy in order to thrash her soundly. His men, curse their eyes, had known full well his wishes and would not leave him to it. Now that he had her full attention and the privacy he had wished, throttling her wasn’t what he wanted to do with her, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss the disobedience out of her.
“Thank you, I’m sure Winifred will love our home,” she grinned up at him, stood up and attempted to brush out her skirts a bit more. She patted his arm as she walked past him and said “It’s a new horizon for us, that’s what this is. A new horizon.” He wrinkled his brow at her words. “You have realized that it’s not your keep, or your lands anymore. It is our home,” she explained with a shrug of her shoulders and remounted her mare. Once she was settled in her mount she sighed contently to herself and looked over at him. His raised eyebrow told her that he wasn’t quite finished with her but the shake of his head told her that he wasn’t up for a battle either. He crooked his finger at her, beckoning her to his side. She gave a heavy sigh and slid from her mare once more…..
Friday, April 30, 2010
Day 13... After midnight...
The soft glow of the candles positioned along the wall was the only lighting the small group of travelers had as they made their way down the passageway towards the main gated entrance of the keep. The leader of the group lifted his balled fist into the air to signal the group to quickly halt and listen to their surroundings. Once assured they were indeed the only souls in the walkway, he motioned the group of four men dressed in ragged clothing and who carried a foul odor, forward.
Royce, a young soldier having only joined the ranks of the Earl one summer earlier, was the soldier on duty. What he lacked in age he more than made up for in experience on the battlefield and in build, he was a strong lad of 17 and had seen as much warring as almost anyone in the barracks where he was housed. The small stool in the guard tower did not make for a very comfortable seat for the largely built soldier, causing him to stand for most of his time in the small makeshift fort. A glimpse to the right out his little window assured him all was quiet and a glance towards the left appeared to be quiet as well, to the untrained soldier. However, Royce had been doing guard duty for the last sennight and new well enough the shadows of the trees nearby to know that the small shadow he saw along the outer wall was not a moving brush, but rather a living person.
Not one to sound an alarm at any slight movement, Royce instead motioned to the guard who was entertaining himself below the fort. “Ian, put your arse back in your pants and get up here!” his hushed voice boomed down the ladder to the young soldier below who was enjoying the company of an even younger lass. A few moments later a grumbled Ian climbed up into the fort and demanded to know why he was interrupted.
“The sweet lass was just about to let me have my way, and you go and offend her!” Ian cuffed Royce with his fist.
“Aye, I’m sure you were just about to get your way,” Royce couldn’t help but laugh. “I think it was your stench that offended the gentle lady,” the sarcasm was not lost on Ian and he looked as though he were to biff his friend once more, but Royce put his hand in the air to still him. “Nay, we don’t have time for banter. There is a small group of men creeping along side the wall. I’ll go check it out, you stay here.” Royce patted Ian’s shoulder as he stepped past him and began his descent down the ladder.
“Why do you get to have them? I could use the exercise,” Ian complained, looking down through the opening of the fort at Royce on the ladder.
“Aye, you could. And you could use that club of yours to take them out,” Royce pointed upward at his friend who instantly turned red in the face and quickly adjusted his clothing.
Royce, a young soldier having only joined the ranks of the Earl one summer earlier, was the soldier on duty. What he lacked in age he more than made up for in experience on the battlefield and in build, he was a strong lad of 17 and had seen as much warring as almost anyone in the barracks where he was housed. The small stool in the guard tower did not make for a very comfortable seat for the largely built soldier, causing him to stand for most of his time in the small makeshift fort. A glimpse to the right out his little window assured him all was quiet and a glance towards the left appeared to be quiet as well, to the untrained soldier. However, Royce had been doing guard duty for the last sennight and new well enough the shadows of the trees nearby to know that the small shadow he saw along the outer wall was not a moving brush, but rather a living person.
Not one to sound an alarm at any slight movement, Royce instead motioned to the guard who was entertaining himself below the fort. “Ian, put your arse back in your pants and get up here!” his hushed voice boomed down the ladder to the young soldier below who was enjoying the company of an even younger lass. A few moments later a grumbled Ian climbed up into the fort and demanded to know why he was interrupted.
“The sweet lass was just about to let me have my way, and you go and offend her!” Ian cuffed Royce with his fist.
“Aye, I’m sure you were just about to get your way,” Royce couldn’t help but laugh. “I think it was your stench that offended the gentle lady,” the sarcasm was not lost on Ian and he looked as though he were to biff his friend once more, but Royce put his hand in the air to still him. “Nay, we don’t have time for banter. There is a small group of men creeping along side the wall. I’ll go check it out, you stay here.” Royce patted Ian’s shoulder as he stepped past him and began his descent down the ladder.
“Why do you get to have them? I could use the exercise,” Ian complained, looking down through the opening of the fort at Royce on the ladder.
“Aye, you could. And you could use that club of yours to take them out,” Royce pointed upward at his friend who instantly turned red in the face and quickly adjusted his clothing.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Day 12
Is there such a thing as an acceptable loss?
Is it acceptable to lose the love in a marriage? For it to slowly die and begin to rot before the two people finally realize what the heavy stench is?
Is it acceptable to lose your hope and ambition because someone has told you that your not good enough at what you love, to be a success at it?
Is it acceptable for a child to lose their respect for their parent who finds more comfort at the bottom of bottle than anywhere else?
Is it acceptable for a mother lose their child of any age for any reason? A pain that deep can't possibly be acceptable or reasonable.
Maybe an acceptable loss is something that you didn't really need anyway. To lose the south beach diet book is an acceptable loss to someone who has given up on all diets.
Weight loss is usually an acceptable loss. I'm sure many people could accept losing 10 lbs or so.
Losing your memory could be acceptable if your past is full of misery and painful memories, it would be like a fresh start at life.
Losing time is acceptable only when there is extra time to be lost, and who really has extra time...not me...my time is up.
I'm noticing that when I wait to do my writing til the end of the night I don't get very far, my groove is never found and nothing worthy spills onto theses pages...but I showed up, I wrote...and I posted.
Is it acceptable to lose the love in a marriage? For it to slowly die and begin to rot before the two people finally realize what the heavy stench is?
Is it acceptable to lose your hope and ambition because someone has told you that your not good enough at what you love, to be a success at it?
Is it acceptable for a child to lose their respect for their parent who finds more comfort at the bottom of bottle than anywhere else?
Is it acceptable for a mother lose their child of any age for any reason? A pain that deep can't possibly be acceptable or reasonable.
Maybe an acceptable loss is something that you didn't really need anyway. To lose the south beach diet book is an acceptable loss to someone who has given up on all diets.
Weight loss is usually an acceptable loss. I'm sure many people could accept losing 10 lbs or so.
Losing your memory could be acceptable if your past is full of misery and painful memories, it would be like a fresh start at life.
Losing time is acceptable only when there is extra time to be lost, and who really has extra time...not me...my time is up.
I'm noticing that when I wait to do my writing til the end of the night I don't get very far, my groove is never found and nothing worthy spills onto theses pages...but I showed up, I wrote...and I posted.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Day 11
A strong floral scent hangs heavily in the stale air, making it almost hard to breath in the confining room. The king sized bed is neatly made, the lavendar and pink botanic bead spread is tucked neatly beneath the pillows and barely brushes the deep green carpeting.
There is a small end table near the window, where the bulky drapes hang matching the bedspread perfectly down the very last pink tulip. A sheer curtain denies the outsiders a full view of the room, but the occupant can see well enough out to the walk way. The wall unit air conditioner blows cool air into the stuffy room, gently rustling the drapes.
As you can see, I didn't get very far in my 15 minutes today...brain blockage, I suppose. I worked on my math class for a good hour and a half before doing my writing, I guess it sucked all of my creativity from me. Tomorrow will be better.
There is a small end table near the window, where the bulky drapes hang matching the bedspread perfectly down the very last pink tulip. A sheer curtain denies the outsiders a full view of the room, but the occupant can see well enough out to the walk way. The wall unit air conditioner blows cool air into the stuffy room, gently rustling the drapes.
As you can see, I didn't get very far in my 15 minutes today...brain blockage, I suppose. I worked on my math class for a good hour and a half before doing my writing, I guess it sucked all of my creativity from me. Tomorrow will be better.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)