#Friday Fictioneers – Sirens part 2

Thank you Madison Woods once again for a great photo. What I love about writing is that for me, when you start writing it evolves into something you hadn’t really planned it to be.

This was supposed to be a happy flash fiction story however somehow turned into a story based on an earlier Friday Fictioneers piece called Sirens. I’ve named it the same again as follows on, albeit years later. If you want to join in, pop over to Madison Wood’s blog and view her short story and picture. The first part of Siren’s is right here, and puts across Sarah’s view from years before.

Sirens

Jenny sat in the car with the engine running and her heart fluttered. She hadn’t banked on Sarah finding her so soon but when the letter dropped through the door a week ago Jenny knew she couldn’t veil the truth any longer. The crime she witnessed all those years ago had turned the local town into a battlefield and watching the destruction spread through the streets Jenny felt powerless.

Sarah had been on the run for too long and Jenny’s testimony was the only thing that could guarantee her freedom. Jenny recognised her instantly, wearing a green sweater and baseball cap pulled down tightly over her forehead. Sarah walked quickly across the car park and entered the building. Taking a deep breath Jenny switched off the engine. She opened the glove compartment and took out the small revolver and slipped it into her small handbag. It would end today.

His Father’s Words – Michael McCarthy

My husband has been quite taken with the idea of flash fiction of late. He often comes up with some wonderful story lines but never puts them down on paper. Today he has decided to give it a go, bearing in mind he has never written a short story or flash fiction, I think this is pretty damn good. Please let me know what you think.

His Father’s Words

By Michael McCarthy

As the crashing water subsided, a boy emerged from the whiteness that had engulfed him. His hair was soaked and he wiped it from his eyes, taking in what he had accomplished. He had wandered far and was weary from the toil. His feet were sore from his boots, still not broken in, and his aching shoulders bared the marks of his satchel’s heavy load. Father always said the most satisfying rest was after of a hard days labour and he hadn’t lied. As the boy lay there in his porcelain tub, he knew that Monday’s round would be easier.

(100 words)

#Friday Fictioneers – End of the Rainbow

A little late in the day yet again! Thank Madison Woods for the photo.

I couldn’t think about which way to go with this but  I liked this one over the horror version I had. If you fancy having a go, click here to view the picture and Madison’s 100 word story.

 

End of the Rainbow

Grass at her feet and a crown of daisies in her hair, Sophie watched the clouds part and felt the sun hit her face.

Rolling over she smiled at Deacon who was blowing smoke rings into the air. His sunglasses perched on the tip of nose, Sophie could see him watching her.

“So, we going to do this?”

Sophie wanted to say no. At seventeen she had so much to achieve and the whole world to see. But as much desire she had for her future, she longed for the precious life inside of her.

She rested her head on Deacon’s shoulder and sighed.

“My mum is going to kill me.”

#Friday Fictioneers – Blindsighted

Thanks to a migraine I have had to rush this a little. Viewing the image on my phone I thought it was something completely different though I hope it still relates to the image. If you want to take part the image is at Madison Wood’s blog. Write 100 and post it back as a comment on her story.

Blindsighted

When I was twelve years old my eye sight disappeared. It didn’t happen overnight, from the age of ten all colours started to drain away then slowly the world became cocooned in tunnel vision. By the time I turned eleven the comforting faces of my parents were alien outlines surrounded in dim light.

For years I mourned for the vision that I lost. Accepting my new life was never easy and there were many nights I suffered heartache knowing that I would never be able to look into my wife’s eyes or see whether my son had inherited my large forehead.

Twenty years on I am lying in bed, listening to the bleeping machines and dizzy from the smell of antiseptic. I slowly open my eyes and there it is, a small ball of light, breaking through the darkness.

#Friday Fictioneers – Sirens

Thank you Madison for this weeks photo. I found it tricky again but I think that was also because I haven’t had much time to write this week. If you fancy a go, view the photo here and write approx 100 words.

Sirens

All the hope of freedom was held in that barn. Peering through the crack in the wood Sarah could see bodies of the young.

Engulfed in flashing light the adolescent army danced with their arms reaching up towards the sky. Broken rumbles disturbed the dust beneath her feet and a deep bass line triggered euphoric memories. The mood was hypnotic but Sarah wouldn’t allow it to take her prisoner.

Running away from a crime she didn’t commit, her proof of innocence belonged to a girl. Sarah desperately needed to find her but as the sirens drew closer she had to choose between liberty and exoneration.  Tonight the shadows beckoned, the truth had to wait and Sarah vanished once more.

Progress Update

When I started this blog I had no idea about the impact it would have on my writing. In the past I had started blogs but after a few months they were abandoned as in all honesty they had no use to me.

Write Away is in effect documenting my development as a writer. Recently I have been going back and reading stories from before I started my blog and I can see a vast difference in my writing. The style in which I write is very much the same but the plot, description and character is much richer than before. In part I believe this is down to taking part in Friday Fictioneers so that each week I am challenged to create a story inspired by a photo prompt and only using about 100 words. I have become very picky about the words I use and what it takes to develop a plot in such few words.

It has also got me used to sharing work, opening it up for critique which when you are starting out is the most terrifying thing you can do. Now I look forward to comments and any critique I receive, good or bad, really does aid my learning.

I have also immensely enjoyed reading other writers literary journeys. Some evenings I sit at the laptop and think, how on earth am I going to write today when I am dog tired.   What helps is reading that we all feel the same way and it isn’t a flaw and is completely normal and okay to have days when you are not writing.

This week I have been reading. I believe reading is so important and it is so easy to forget to read and allow life get in the way. Yesterday I read How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff, a YA novel about girl called Daisy is sent to England by her father to live with her aunt and cousins who she has never met. It was a shocking, funny and surprisingly violent book but deeply moving and touching. It has really invigorated me and I am now considering exploring that genre further.  I have also been spending my evenings copywriting for some extra money which has to take priority at the moment. It’s important for me to allow myself time to recharge my batteries in a way and if I feel completely uncreative, don’t dwell and move on to something else.

A few weeks ago I asked if anyone would kindly offer to critique some work and thank you to those who replied. I have a short story in progress, which I am not entirely pleased with at the moment so it is a very slow work in progress.

Despite the fact my short story writing has stalled a little, I am constantly writing which in my eyes is a good. Many novelists work as copywriters or journalists before publishing a novel so I’m not going to give myself a hard time for not getting any fiction finished. I know I will keep working on it and my goal this year is still to have a piece of fiction published.

Most importantly I have finally got myself a place to work! (Yes, an exclamation mark was completely necessary) I assembled a desk overlooking the valley here in Yorkshire. No doubt I will be spending hours in my little room. Wonder how long it will take before I start posting at 2am?

 

#Friday Fictioneers – Flowers

Thank you Madison Woods for yet another excellent photo prompt. I had a few ideas, but struggled to get them down in the way I wanted. The ending is a little abrupt so I may have another go at writing it later on. If you want to have a go, view the photo, write approx 100 words and post back at Madison’s blog.

Flowers

Morning sun colours the field sepia like an old picture. A lonely white flower waves at me as the wind brushes my face. The sound of the breeze is magnetic and the flower urges me to move closer. My fingers clench the fence and I feel blood trickle down my wrist but there is no pain. My palms are without injury and the barbed wire is decorated in red. Looking up the flower is gone and my girl with blond tussled hair is calling ‘Mum’. I run to her so fast that I nearly trip. The faster I run, the further away she seems. My mouth tries to scream her name ‘Katie’ but nothing comes out. My knees give way and I hit the ground. A jolt surges through me and my eyes open. Awake.