Strange Lines – Friday Fictioneers

Not Dead!!!

Thought I’d lead with the same thing I make my kids shout after hearing a loud thump from somewhere in the house.

I’ve been away for a long time with various messy life things, so was thrilled to the see the lovely Rochelle still flying the fictioneer flag. Therefore, I decided it was about time I popped in to say hello with my offering for this weeks Friday Fictioneers,

Lovely to see some familiar faces and many new ones. I’m looking forward to reading everyone’s work again. It’s been far too long.

If anyone would like to have a go, click the link above. Every week Rochelle picks a photo prompt and all you need to do is write a story, no longer than 100 words, and submit. Don’t forget to click the frog and add your link so everyone can see where you are.

This weeks photo was supplied by Roger Bultot. img_20190807_112118

Happy writing , and hope you enjoy my story.

If you’d like to read any of the other stories from this prompt, find them here.

Strange Lines

Kali stroked the thin white lines.

“What are these strange markings?”

“The old language.” Her sister pointed to the scrawl above her head. “Look, this one says War.”

Kali listened as her sister translated the others. Almost no-one in the New Kingdom understood the old language anymore.

“It’s kind of beautiful – in a primitive way.” Kali picked up a ripe pear and breathed in its syrupy scent.

“Language is constantly evolving. One day people will say the same about code.”

Kali stifled a giggle. “Not a chance, code will always exist.”

Her sister smiled. “I’m sure, once they thought the same about words.”

103 Words

A new sunrise

cropped-sunset_1.jpg

 

Greetings from the great beyond!

Firstly can I apologise for the non-existent posts over the last year or so. My life has taken a dramatic twist and I am still running to keep up with it all.

After many years of crying and stalking publishers on the net, I had my first short story published. More details on that to follow.

I am now a single parent, and as such I am finding new meaning in the word ‘tired’.

I’ve gone from employed to, ‘oh my god is that beans down your shirt, and please not another episode of Paw Patrol’.

And for the most recent, I am embarking on a business idea with my friend and co-writer Heidi Busby Brown. It could be something extraordinary, or send us into a obliterating despair spiral leading to diabetes and drinking in the day.

All in all, it’s working out to be an interesting and fun-filled year so far.

So now I’m finally able to return and take up the mantle that is my blog. I look forward reacquainting myself with you all and hopefully having some fun along the way.

Please watch this space for all the magnificence and absolute (guaranteed) train wrecks to come. Can’t wait to throw myself back into the writing world and feel like me again.

Happy Writing!

 

 

 

The Devil’s Cry

A bit late with this one. It’s official. My children believe that I live to clean, sweets have been re-classed as a breakfast food and communication only comes in the form of hitting each other with a fake, rubber horse head mask…(don’t ask!)

So please find my offering for this weeks Friday Fictioneers. If you’d like to have a go, pop onto Rochelle’s page and take a look at this weeks prompt, write a story in 100 words or less and press the blue frog to add your link. Good Luck!

Thanks to Piya Singh for this week's photo prompt.

 Thanks to Piya Singh for this week’s photo prompt.

Pieces of slate covered the ground like the scales of dragonhide. She pushed one aside. Black shone from amongst the undergrowth. Her eyes filled with tears.

The glass was smooth and still warm. She threw her head back and screamed.

A guttural rumble shook the earth. Pieces of volcanic glass flew upward, melding together, one by one till it hung in all its former glory.

She gazed into the mirror.

‘There you are.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘Just where I left you.’

His eyes widened. ‘How? No, not again.’

She laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. ‘I promised you forever, brother.’

99 words

The Return

It’s been a while, but anyone who knows me, knows I’m a sucker for a sea picture.

So here’s my contribution for Friday Fictioneers hosted by the lovely Rochelle. If you fancy having a go, write your story, approx 100 words, to the prompt on Rochelle’s page. Then add your link. If you’d like to read the other stories in this weeks story challenge, click on the blue frog 🙂

WavesPHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Tara shuffled her feet forward. She teetered on the edge of the large granite rock, pockmarked from centuries of saltwater.

Air rushed through her, the type that washes you clean, as if everything she’d done was forgiven in that moment.

Waves fell over each other, rushing, racing, desperate to be the one to consume her.

She stepped in. The icy water sent shockwaves through her body. She shivered.  Her skin turned a silken deep brown and her eyes flashed lilac.

‘Seven years gone, to the sea I return,’ she sang. ‘For the life of a Selkie and the ocean I yearn.’

101 words.

Poetry Challenge #26 – Constanza

If you’d like to have a go at this week’s Poetry Challenge head over to Jane Dougherty Writes and take a look at this week’s prompt, and good luck!

cropped-sunset_1.jpg

Maybe Tomorrow

Maybe tomorrow.

We could pick the pieces up,

tell ourselves that we’re enough.

 

Maybe tomorrow.

Our world won’t seem so dark,

or the smiles so far apart.

 

Maybe tomorrow.

We could catch ourselves a break.

Convince the crowd we’re not too late.

 

Maybe tomorrow.

We will hold our hands up high

and confess, we really tried.

They Said – Friday Fictioneers

Happy Wednesday everybody!

Here’s my contribuion to Friday Fictioneers this week. I hope you enjoy it. If you fancy having a go, click here and head to Rochelle’s page where you will find the prompt for this week. Write something in 100 words or less, and post.

If you would like to read more stories for this week’s prompt, cick on the blue frog 🙂

Thank you to Emmy L Gant for this week’s photo.

PHOTO PROMPT - © Emmy L Gant

They Said

‘Leave it in the bin,’ they said. ‘You know, the one on the roof, near the old market hall. No Police.’

Kirsty dropped the crumpled Sainsbury’s bag. It made a dull thud as it hit the metal.

She glanced around her once more. Greasy-looking rooftops shimmered in the late afternoon sun and the spire of St Jude’s pierced the sky like a needle. Other than that, nothing.

She pulled her coat tight and made for the stairs.

As long as the money was there, they’d give him back.

She’d followed their instructions exactly.

And now they had no reason not to, right?

102 words

Decisions – Friday Fictioneers

 

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers, and here is my contribution.

If you fancy having a go, pop onto Rochelle’s page and take a look at the photo prompt. Write your story in 100 words or less and don’t forget to post your link with the blue frog. Good luck and Happy Writing!

PHOTO PROMPT - © Sandra Crook

Thank you to Sandra Cook for this weeks superb photo.

Decisions

The old woman turned the dial. Opalescent sand poured into the bottom of the glass.

‘I hope they make the right decision,’ said  a deep voice. Gorran stepped out of a break in the hedges.

The woman recoiled.

‘As long as you leave ’em be, they’ll be fine,’ she said, edging her way towards the hour glass. But he was too quick.

Gorran lifted his hands and the sand turned black.

‘You can’t do that,’ she said. ‘You’re not supposed to interfere.’

‘Looks like another bad day,’ he chuckled.

Somewhere in the distance, a scream pierced the silence.

98 words