Monthly Archives: January 2017

Playtime…

They waved and danced about as Doris walked slowly towards the gate. It may have been near on 70 years since she’d last seen her brother and sister’s but she’d have known them anywhere.  Her heart leapt with joy at the thought of being reunited with them and tears trickled down her cheek.

Apart from their  mother, she’d  been the only survivor when the bomb had struck the house on that fateful night; but here they all were, back together again at last.

The sun warmed Doris’ face and her ringlets bounced in the sun as she ran towards her siblings, a five year old’s bones didn’t ache…

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Let the Waters Sing…

As children we knew long before the waters receded that there was a church at the bottom of the lake. The water would lap against the shore to the haunting sound of bells ringing deep under the water.

We would dare each other to spend the night, but no one stayed past 11pm.  Whether there was a breeze or not the waters would sing to us; some people reported hearing singing too; from a congregation long forgotten.

It was a warm June night when Billy Franklin made his way to the lake; he was new in town and desperate to join our gang before we broke for the summer. We sent him off with a blanket and a bag of snacks. The moon was high in the night sky, I remember because me and the others camped out in my garden waiting to see if Billy would make it. I’m not sure at what point we all fell asleep I just remember being woken early the next day by Billy’s dad. Billy had never made it home.  

His body was recovered not far from the sunken church some 3 days later. No one could understand what had made Billy enter the water that night, least of all his parents, because you see Billy couldn’t swim…

He Loves Me, He Loves me not…

Photo prompt: Nighthags Writing Corner

FLASH FICTION

I look at the handsome guy standing in the doorway and smile to myself. I’m not sure how we ended up together; but he does love me, of course he does; he tells me all he time.

I question too much, that’s my problem.  It’s just me being insecure, I need to relax more and enjoy the relationship. 

He does love me, I don’t know why I’m questioning it.  I’d be here all night if I were to list the things he does for me.  Take this cup of tea here, he loves making me tea, always has one ready for me. 

The tea always has a bitter after taste though, I’ve no idea what he does to it, I’ve been watering the rubber plant with them; not that he knows that. Come to think of it, the plant’s not looking so good, I don’t think the tea agrees with it…

Of course he loves me, why would I ever doubt it?

Chez Bug…

Picture courtesy of Photo Prompts

Mrs Ladybird fondly remembered the first time she had visited ‘Chez Bug’; it had been on her honeymoon, they had loved it so much that they had returned each year with their ever growing brood.  So many happy memories.

It saddened her now as she stood there looking at the worn facade of the hotel.  To think they’d once called it their ‘Love Palace’, now look at it, the wood was peeling, the rooms drafty and the bedding was old.

The Woodlice had definitely let it go downhill, but could you really blame them after that nasty incident with Papa Woodlouse and the fishpond.  They never had recovered his body.  And here was his legacy being left to wrack and ruin. 

Mrs Ladybird sighed; a nostalgic tear trickled down her face. She doubted they’d be back next year, to be honest she’d be surprised to find it still standing, but for now they’d make the best of ‘Chez Bug’.

A Safe Place…

Photo Credit: Bikurgurl

100 World Wednesday – Week 3

It was safer down here, of that I was sure!  I heard them calling my name, their voices taunting me, but I wasn’t going to answer them.  I was definitely safer down here…

I knew that the storm drain opened up by Lincoln and Memorial and from there I’d be able to get back to town.  I headed east and quickly lost sight of the daylight. I’m not sure when it was that they’d decided to gate off the exit, but as the rain fell I felt the waters rise around me.

I really thought I’d be safer down here… (100 words)

Join Bikurgurl for this week’s 100 Word Challenge.

 

Burn the bra…

I saw a post on Facebook this evening that had been posted by a fellow writer, she wanted to know whether women writers felt that they were at a disadvantage when trying to get work published because of their gender…

Questions such as these baffle me, I’m an intelligent woman and am well aware of the prejudices and social injustice that women have faced in the past and still do, however I find it so odd that on a daily basis some women feel that their life is a constant battle.

I wasn’t brought up by my parents to see my gender as being an issue, I have certainly never walked into a job interview thinking that I would have to work harder then a man interviewing for the same position.  There are inequalities in all areas of life that both men and women face e.g. why should the children of separated parents automatically live with the mother? Why not the father? I’m a teacher and have in the past had to question the parenting skills of mothers so just because they gave birth to the children doesn’t mean that they are a good parent.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is, that if we see our life as a battle then it will become a battle because we will question everything that is said or done towards us… is that man opening the door for me because he is polite or is he undermining me? 

If a man opens a door then it’s because he’s POLITE, why on earth would he have an ulterior motive, he has better things to do with his time.

I know this may open a can of worms but sometimes we just need to move on and ‘suck it up princess’…