Tag Archives: writing

Deep Underground…

The Earl’s Court was now in session. The Judge sat sternly in his chair, the veins in his forehead pulsating. The assizes had been broken and someone had to pay.

The Seven Sisters sat without conviction whilst the Black Friars mumbled incoherent incantations up in the gallery. In the dock stood Lady Highbury, her head held high; the Prince Regent looked on helplessly. 

Lady Thames smiled to herself as the Angel stepped towards the witness box, after all it didn’t matter who was guilty as long as someone took the blame…


Home Alone…

I haven’t written a post in almost a week as I’ve been feeling really poorly and had trouble stringing a coherent sentence together.  I’m not completely back on top form as could easily fall asleep (it’s only 1:45pm in the UK), but I’ve really missed our little community and have been annoyed with myself for not being able to write anything.

I apologise now for any grammatical errors or inconsistencies that may annoy fellow writers but as I say my head is still a little fuzzy but I think giving my mind something to focus on may help my blocked nose…

I hope you enjoy it and be kind to a poorly fellow writer 😉


We all assume that we know our homes like the back of our hands. The nooks and crannies, the night time moans and groans that as children scared us, but we now find comforting and familiar. We walk carefree through our homes in the dark safe in the knowledge that the shadows are our friends and the creaking of the stairs its way of communicating with us. 

But what if things changed! What if you woke up one night and you felt the shadows were watching and taunting you and the creaking floorboards mocking every tentative step you made, how would you feel then?

I’m huddled on the sofa, home alone. The power’s been out since 8pm and the only light comes from the gentle flicker of the candles dotted around the room and the faint glow from my laptop. I’ve tried calling my husband a few times, but he’s not picking up and I just get his answerphone, I’ve left a dozen messages already, I can’t call anymore though because I need to conserve the diminishing life of my phone – I’ve no way of charging it.

I don’t normally scare easily, I’m used to my own company and can entertain myself even during a power cut, but tonight is different, it feels different, the house feels different. Outside it’s pitch, I can’t even see the tree line 100 meters from the house. I locked and bolted all the doors and windows like I do every night before I went to bed at 10 pm.

I’m not sure what woke me up, but I suddenly felt an icy chill as though a window had been opened. I found the latch on the bathroom window loose, Jerry must have opened it before he left, he’s always complaining about the condensation in there. Maybe I turned too quickly as I left the bathroom but I am positive that I saw a movement in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs. 

Here on the sofa, the creaks of the old pipes cut through me and chill me to the core. Every shadow hides a menace I know I am not strong enough to fight… And in the reflection on my laptop I can see its silhouette waiting…

The Day the Machines came…

Image credit: Andreas P. via Unsplash

Bikurgurl 100 Word Weekly Writing Challenge —Week 4

Day 1

Fear spread throughout the forest like a cancer.

Day 2

We felt the vibrations from the drilling machines long before we saw them.

Day 3

The birds and creatures left their homes in the canopy.

Day 4 

The leviathan attacked at dawn and tore down trees, slaughtering everything in its path.

Day 5

The river ran red with the blood of the innocent and the sun turned black from the suffocating smoke.

Day 6

Those of us who were left ran for our lives.

Day 7

The machines rested; peace, if but for a short time, was restored.

(100 words)

Thanks Bikurgurl for a rather challenging photo this week.


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…

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.


Heaven is an Island in the Pacific Ocean…

Photo credit:

Saksham Gangwar. Unsplash

100 Word Wednesday – Week 2

At the water’s edge I hesitated, was this how the afterlife really looked, sundrenched beaches and palm trees? Vast oceans and seagulls?

I tried desperately to look back, to see what I was leaving behind me, to try and hold onto my life, but as the waves kissed the sand beneath it and the sun dipped below the ridge of the Island the pull was too strong and I found myself drawn even further forward.

The breeze from the ocean caressed my face and hands and at last I succumbed to its calling and drifted peacefully towards the Island.

(99 words)

Join Bikurgurl for this week’s 100 Word Challenge.