Friday, September 30, 2011

Flash Fiction No. 62


Oui Ja

“No,” he murmured calmly. “You don’t understand.”

Daylight squeezed through the murky panes, grey and dismal with the low hang of morning mist. She sat, motionless, in the chair. No words crossed her breath. He pursed his lips, hands deep in his pockets.

“This is why I didn’t want to do it. This is why I told you we shouldn’t play this stupid game.”

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Everything’s Changing

And I don’t feel the same. La la la…

Ahem. I’m sorry you had to walk in on that. Except I’m not. I’m feeling quite bouncy and happy and I’m sure certain people that read this will know why… but as of yet it’s still an almost secret.

But I promise, dear readers, that I’ll tell you soon. In other news… I’ve been doing a lot more photography for that band that I’ve been hanging around with.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Dicey Flash Fiction: Week Four


Punch & Judy
This is week the last of the #DiceGames fiction challenge.

Damp patches blotted the bitumen, gathering in number until the tarmac was sodden. He waited until the rain was at its heaviest to load the car. The old pickup wheeled and wretched as the burdened sheets were slung inside, dripping wet.

He paused before packing away the tailgate, allowing his eyes to absorb the blood soaked linen. It was going to be a long drive. The discordant jangle of keys rattled in his ear as they turned in the door.

The air in the car was clammy.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Flash Fiction No. 61


Red Pill or Blue Pill?

Blood spluttered from her lips as she lay sprawled across the grimy tiles, crimson blotting too pale skin. The pills sat scattered out of reach.

Her fingers feebly clasped on air. She closed her eyes, dry lips moving in silent prayer. One arm clutched about her burning stomach, she struggled to get closer to the pills, but every time she moved they seemed to get further away.

“Get up.”

Thursday, September 22, 2011


Those of you on twitter may have noticed that I disappeared after posting last Friday’s piece of flash fiction, Cinders, and didn’t return until some time on Sunday. Saturday was a planned disappearance but Friday was not.

Things kicked off once more in our household on Friday night. Regular readers may already know what’s coming. Those who don’t, well…

My brother, Master Berserker, started a huge argument…

Monday, September 19, 2011

Dicey Flash Fiction: Week Three


Eternal Youth

It wasn’t what I expected. The taste was so much sweeter.

I discovered him in Kew Gardens loitering amongst the exotic flowers, his fingers stroking the tips of delicate petals. He’d read the detail of each plant’s unearthing and smiled to himself when his eyes moved over the old names. We talked for a while, him inviting me to a drink at a local place.

I didn’t understand what he meant by drink, then. I do now.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Flash Fiction No. 60


A continuation of Picking Up The Pieces

“Bailey’s ’n ice,” he muttered to himself, staring through the heavy duty pane into the freezer. The frosted glass was scraped away in places, allowing him to see his new possession.

The glass was specially imported. He didn’t want any way for water elementals to slip in through the reflections. He smiled to himself, cold eyes burning through the window to the young man frozen there. It wouldn’t take long before she would come too.

He understood that that was how love worked having never tried it himself.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

3, 2, 1 & You’re Back In The Room

Technically, this is my second week back at work but, as the first week started on a Wednesday, I’m still counting it as my first week back. And what a tiring first week back it’s been. I forgot just what an exhausting job it is.

I know it’s not for long in the morning and the evening, but you cram an awful lot of exercise into that time and you have to concentrate really hard while you’re doing it (plus there’s my 40 min walk to and from work twice a day). There are also a lot more kids and parents now. Or so it seems. And a lot of the kids have switched from the infant schools to the juniors, or the juniors to the secondary or have left the secondary. Some of them have just started the infants too or they’re going to nursery with their parents.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Dicey Flash Fiction: Week Two


Kill All Your Characters

“But why?”

The cutlery in the hall stilled. One diner knocked over his goblet. Red liquid leapt from its grasp and pooled across the old banquet table. It spread across the ancient wood, squeezing in between plates and silverware, rippling as it pressed up against each object.

A chair tumbled over, a young girl falling to the flagstones with her eyes fixed in a glassy stare of horror. She hit her head but didn’t feel it. Blood and small splinters of skull smattered the old stone.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Simply Must

Sometimes I lie back and stare at the ceiling and have too many thoughts to hold onto them for very long at all.

Occasionally they escape into real conversations that occur at other times, leaving feelings of remorse and regret to twirl as dance partners in a hectic, stomach-based waltz, their feet to fast to stop for long. I’m told by some people that I have a beautiful heart. That’s not always true.

But there are two sides to beauty as there are two sides to everything in life.

Friday, September 09, 2011

Flash Fiction No. 59


Picking Up The Pieces

She heard his screams from the other side of the mirror, but she couldn’t go back. Going back would rip her to shreds. The pieces were simply too small to pass through.

There was no way to save him from there. Without another mirror nearby or a pool of water, her elemental powers trapped her in the field. Fevered eyes stared back into the glass. A kaleidoscope picture flashed and died as the power of the other mirror finally broke into nothingness.

He had to make it.

Thursday, September 08, 2011

Forming Thoughts

As you know, I’m nearing the end of my current WIP, Preying on Time, and I’ve been dithering over writing the ending. This is not because I don’t know what happens in the end or because I’ve suddenly found that I dislike the story immensely.

The truth is that I slow down for endings. I’m not willing to simply get on and write them usually because it means the end of one novel and the beginning if something new.

And I always have new ideas floating around to be written.

Monday, September 05, 2011

Dicey Flash Fiction: Week One


A Dragon Just Wrecked Your House – Deal With It

My head pounded beneath the duvet of rubble. It was dark. Something breathed low and long overhead, the stench of sulphur stinking out the air. It rolled and smoked, sickening my insides as the acrid stink of burning flesh wrapped around my lungs.

It had come so suddenly. We should have listened to the warning, but my father was too proud. He said that it would never find us.

He was wrong.

Sunday, September 04, 2011

The Death of Another Summer

Tomorrow is the start of the #DiceGames blog challenge. So that’s a thousand words of fiction for you every Monday this month. I also thought that I started back at work on Tuesday but apparently term begins on Wednesday instead!

So I have an extra day of freedom before I have to don my fluorescent coat and keep pedestrians safe as they cross the road.

Friday, September 02, 2011

Flash Fiction No. 58


Spectral Spies

My breath whispered along the passage in shuddering ripples, bouncing off the too solid walls and floors. I needed to get out.

The night gown clawed at my ankles, clinging and sticking to my skin in the damp, but I pretended I didn’t feel it, holding the knife out before me in shaky fingers. Cold light echoed from thin slivered bulbs. There was no going back. I took another breath and stepped past the third laboratory door.

It seemed selfish leaving the others, but I couldn’t risk it.

Thursday, September 01, 2011

Losing Your Inkheart

Today is a quiet day. I haven’t had a lot of quiet days recently. There has been much to do and many people to see and distract myself with. Distractions are good to a certain extent, but not when they are also distracting you from writing.

Mostly, I’ve been trying to ignore my emotions. I figured I could. If I ignore them then I don’t have to think about things. The problem with that is that I lose heart in the things that I really enjoy doing and I just can’t function when I try to do them.

One major thing that I’ve been lacking in recently is the heart to write.