Stella took the subway. Seeking the protection of strangers, she slowly made her way through the crowd. People grew restless as the train approached
Writing | Creative | Flash
Fairies danced here once. My sister, cousin and I watched them at twilight as they danced about in the clover, their flimsy wings translucent and dotted with pale colours.
The juiciest blackberries grew alongside the tracks, with a sick husband and five children to feed, Anna happily accepted nature’s help.
Her leather portfolio bought with birthday money, stuffed with photos so lovingly captured by Charlie, began to look scruffy as it was pawed over and scrutinised by agent after agent.
It’s funny how some stories just jump into your head and almost write themselves. That’s what happened when I saw the prompt for this week.
John stepped back into the water trough one more time.
‘I hate bloody DIY! And why soak the paper? What’s wrong with old fashioned wallpaper paste?’
An invitation to the place where we began would once have sent my heart soaring. Dare I allow it to do so again?
We had a very enjoyable holiday but as we left I mentioned to the owner that she should really tell prospective holiday makers that part of the house is overlooked by the neighbours.
The bag was heavy but Molly dragged it to the station. Her face turned towards the sun, its warmth flowed through her body, easing the pain. Cosmic pain relief, she laughed out loud at the simplicity of it.
The two women walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. As the doors opened and they walked into the foyer, they were surprised to see nothing but steel. The whole ground floor had been…