Friday, July 29, 2011

Flash Fiction No. 53


Screaming Whispers

The slick splash tickled dazed ears, the scent of stale urine and sweat stinging his nostrils. Dull pain vibrated through his skull, pulsing as a vehement sound wave that jangled his insides. The darkness of the dank room was too bright for his eyes.

Scratching tore at the outer walls.

He put his hand to his forehead, eyes still tightly closed, and felt the sticky smear of blood that laced his temple. Beneath him, his broken ankle throbbed. He’d fallen on it when the unexpected drop had cut across his path. Travelling too fast to stop, his feet had sent him plummeting, the sound of them tearing his ears.

Sunday, July 24, 2011


Now I have some thanks to dish out. Some fantastic people have recently mentioned me on their blogs. In no way did I hint or ask them to do this so I was truly thrilled when I found out they had.

 [This is me, by the way…]

Considering I’ve been having a hard time of it lately, this has helped to kick start my summer. For those of you who don’t know, I’m a lollipop lady (school crossing guard to Americans), which means my summer holidays have officially kicked off.

And so, without further ado…

Friday, July 22, 2011

Flash Fiction No. 52


For Better, For Worse…

She spliced open the stitches, reopening the wound with the hefty blade. Blood slithered over her skin, dripping from her arm like thick, red rain. Breath hissed between her teeth. She needed to get it out.

The blade dug deeper into her flesh, twisting as it tried to reach the implant. There was no other way to do it. Her teeth ground together, ignoring the hot tears that stung her eyes. She was a supernatural. She was stronger than that.

There it was.

Excruciating pain snaked through her arm as she pried the implant loose from her bloody flesh, the stench of her own flesh filling her nostrils. It chinked to the floor. She watched it roll away as her body collapsed against the building wall.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011


There are conversations that disappear in this household. They start and then the speaker vanishes behind walls and beneath weightier words. There are too many loud voices in this house and the most willing to please is the last to be heard.

Conversations start off and…

Monday, July 18, 2011

Confess Your Sins

Not so long ago, I completed the Seven Days, Seven Sins blog challenge issued by @LadyAntimony. During the challenge I met plenty of fantastic writers and read some astonishing pieces of extra short fiction.

Now we’ve been challenged again, but this time we’re repenting…

The Seven Days, Seven Virtues challenge will commence on the 7th August. So once again you get a week’s worth of 100 word flash fiction from me and all of the other challengers.

And how do you find these virtuous writing knights?

Friday, July 15, 2011

Flash Fiction No. 51


Forever Goodnight

He clutches me and tells me that it doesn’t have to be this way. It doesn’t, but I tell him that it’s over. I can’t back out now.

He’s on his knees, fingers bunched in my blouse as if I am his saviour, an angel, the symbol of his rebirth. I suppose I am some kind of angel, but not the one he wants. Not really. It’s come too far for that. Of course, he can’t see it yet. They never do.

He pleads, telling me that he can change. But he can’t. I know he can’t change, just as I know that I must do this. It’s nothing personal. It was never personal. It was simply a thing I had to do to grow and to understand myself.

And now I’m blooming.

Thursday, July 14, 2011


This is one of those rare posts where the first thing on my list is also the last thing I want to talk about, but I partly feel I must. After all, I write this blog to share my fiction and my life with you. To be honest, I wish this was part of the fiction so you’ll forgive me if I mention it and then quickly move on to something else. The thing is R broke up with me a week ago yesterday...

I would have mentioned sooner, only there was the blog challenge and I didn’t much want to talk about it anyway. I still don’t.

And besides, I have lots of other things to mention. Firstly, I want to talk about the seven deadly sins blog challenge.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Sinful Flash Fiction: Greed

Seven days...
Seven deadly sins...


Her eyes glowed red between the boulders.

His fingers bled as he moved the rocks, sharp edges cutting his precious flesh. His mind was on the prize.

She’d told him she was a Djinni.

The promise of power and riches had convinced him to toil endlessly to free her. Finally done, he peered inside, expecting his gold.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Sinful Flash Fiction: Wrath

Seven days...
Seven deadly sins...


Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t get the taste out of her mouth.

It had flashed across her brain, drowning out all rational thought, sucking in every ounce of her humanity until nothing was left. Nothing except the beast.

Salty tears collected on her stained lips, mingling with the metallic taste of blood. She hadn’t meant to.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Sinful Flash Fiction: Pride

Seven days...
Seven deadly sins...


She ran her fingers over her chest, a half-smile curving in her reflection.

Her round eyes always glittered when the light stroked her, softening her pretty features.

The mirror was a present.

An enchanting present.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Sinful Flash Fiction: Envy

Seven days...
Seven deadly sins...


The banquet stilled. People spluttered, choking and dropping their goblets while she observed serenely from her unmoved seat, sipping wine.

He panicked.

The people at the table were dying. The men fell forward, drowsy, and drowned in their soup.

It was worse for the women. She’d put much more nightshade in theirs.

Trusting fools. Why leave a witch in the kitchen?

Saturday, July 09, 2011

Sinful Flash Fiction: Sloth

Seven days...
Seven deadly sins...


Sensual and sweet.

He closed his eyes, still hearing their stopped music in his befuddled mind.

They’d been singing to him. It had been the most glorious sound, dragging his limbs onto the beach and sending them to sleep as the waves lapped over his ankles.

A drowsy smile washed his sleep tainted lips.

His body, drugged by melody, felt nothing of what they were doing. His mind tried to rouse him, yet the dream was too delicious.

Friday, July 08, 2011

Sinful Flash Fiction: Lust

Seven days...
Seven deadly sins...


Shadow caught her delicate throat in perfect moonlight. Onyx pebbled her needy eyes as she watched him trace the moist tip of his tongue along the goblet’s edge, watching her right back.

He smiled.

Her skin came alive with sensation. The surrounding air hummed.

He tweaked the tip of her wine bottle, grazed the lid with his hot fingertips, twisted, poured and drank, licking the liquid from his soft lips.

Thursday, July 07, 2011

Sinful Flash Fiction: Gluttony

Seven days...
Seven deadly sins...


The warning hadn’t been enough.

More, more.

He pushed the cake between his lips, cheeks filled and face red with the need to cram more food into his mouth. Voluminous folds rippled and jiggled as he reached for more spongy goodness from the pile.

He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop.

Sunday, July 03, 2011

I Will Never See The Sky The Same Way…

Late night confessions…

If you follow me on twitter then you may be aware that I’ve recently been on a bit of a downer. I wish I could explain why, but I haven’t figured it out myself, right now. In a few weeks time I may be able to look back with a clearer head and figure it out.

Until then I’ll just have to accept it.

I went through a similar thing in my two years of sixth form college (to those non-Brits who read this, I think your equivalent may be the last years of high school – feel free to correct me on this). A lot of things were going on in my head in those two years. There were a lot of things that I never told anybody and a lot of things that felt too crushing to explain.

They say that these years, teenage years, are critical to discovering who you really are.

Friday, July 01, 2011

Flash Fiction No. 50


The Man With No Face
Starting with Merchandise, this is a continuation of Putrid Fume.

Was she screaming or were they?

“Get me my information!”

The noise seemed to come from everywhere, piercing her ears and spearing her brain. She writhed in the chair, eyes rolling back in her head and froth collecting on her lips, trapped between her body and her mind.

“In her arm! In her arm!”

Sharp pain.