Wednesday, 27 February 2013

5 Sentence Fiction Abandoned

Bit late this week with the 5SF but been a rather busy week. This short story is based on true events from a trip to Hyde Park in London on Saturday for an unofficial 'meet the fans'. Because it was unofficial  there were no police, no barriers so of course with thousands of teenage girls, it went pear shaped! x   


 It wasn't supposed to have ended like this; lying on the cold concrete floor of the park, a face blotchy from tears that streamed down her young face as the hoard of teenage girls ran screaming.  
This was supposed to be the most exciting, amazing day of her life but instead her friends had abandoned her in their frenzy to catch a glimpse of their idols, not even noticing that Saffron wasn't there after tripping over the fencing; lucky not to have been trampled in the surge and chaos.
Miles away from home in a park she didn't know, Saffron trembled from the cold as well as from the realisation that the police were now calling her parents.
The strangers had been kind to the point of fussing when all she wanted to do was find her friends, see her idols and be part of the madness that had descended on the usually tranquil park.

But the worry of her parent’s anger soon vanished as Saffron finally grasped that she had been abandoned twice that day as the ‘band’ had now left the madness for the safety of their hotel and Saffron never even got to see them as she was carried to the ambulance.

For more Five Sentence Fiction, please visit for some excellent reads from excellent writers. xxx

Thursday, 21 February 2013

Thursday Threads

Here's my first attempt at Thursday Threads, hosted by siobhan muir over at Thursthreads-challenge-that-ties-tales. As with most flash fiction, there are rules. Here goes.

1. No more than 250 words, no less that 100.
2. This week's thread must include the line They were small countries
3. In by 7pm this Thursday. . . best I get posting!  

The Dinner date

Seeking refuge in another glass of wine, Emma drowned out her husband’s monotonous tone. She had no idea why he had suddenly decided they should eat out; the romance had died long ago, withered away like the flowers he used to buy her.  They hadn’t been this close in ages; always ate separately, went to bed at different times. Now, as they sat around this small intimate table, she felt the gulf between them. They were small countries with their own customs and language. And he was a country she didn't want to visit anymore.
“You look beautiful” David said as he chomped on steak. He didn't even raise his eyes to look at her; not seeing the little black dress she wore perfectly that skimmed her curves; when walking into the restaurant, Emma felt eyes boring into her, filling her with feelings she hadn't felt in years and yet her husband had not noticed. “Which makes what I’m about to say ridiculous.  Come, I need fresh air. If I divorce you, I lose half of everything. I can’t have that happen.” Without warning a masked man from nowhere knocked into them with such force that Emma fell to the floor as the raider ran. “So I arranged this little incident.” David loomed over her as blood oozed from her chest. “Goodbye Emma. I wish I could say it was fun.” He smiled before standing up “My wife! My wife! She’s been stabbed! Help. I think she’s been murdered!”

249 (excluding title)

Wednesday, 20 February 2013


This piece was written for the mid-week-blues-buster-flash-fiction-challenge-week-01  hosted by the The Tsuruoka files.

The prompt is Freedom accompanied by a song of the same name by Elayna Boynton & Anthony Hamilton which you can check out here.

As with any flash, there are rules: 500 words is target but you can go up to 700 but no less that 300. Very generous and what an opportunity to write something a bit longer that usual.

"The weight of the world was on my shoulders. . . . I'm looking for freedom and to find it it may take . everything I have . . ." The whole song has a melancholy rhythm with lyrics that inspired this short story which at present is untitled.   xxx

The thick rope gnawed away at her flesh with every twist, turn and struggle to free herself, tightening its grip; at times numbing the excruciating pain which was a welcome relief but only fleetingly as the pain seared her flesh to the bone.  Closing her eyes, Narla, as the Blonde One called her, sort solace in her dreams where life was kind, people cared, she could roam free and be herself without recrimination. Those days were another lifetime now and were becoming folklore and fairy tale to her kind just as her freedom became a lost word without meaning.
Fat rain drops fell heavily from the summer sky, trickling off palm leaves, evaporating before her eyes; teasing and taunting Narla as she lay, desperately stretching to reach the precious liquid that lay on a leaf but it was just out of reach. If her wounds didn't end her, thirst would.  She prayed it be quick.
Exhaustion took hold, not even enough energy to stop the wood ants from marching right over her, taking a nibble here, a bite there causing the most agonizing itch that couldn't be scratched.  Rolling over wasn't an option; the binds just tightened, deeper into her flesh, oozing a flow of crimson. Narla could only watch.
She wasn’t sure how many hours she had lain but two nights had passed and she was sure there would not be a third. Where was that fair skinned blonde woman with the kind blue eyes, the soft voice and gentle touch? Surely she would come and rescue Narla from her pitiful fate before The Others did. The Others would jeer, poke, torment at their prize possession for that was all Narla was to them; a possession. Not a soul, a spirit, a life. Not the chance to live to a full age, not the chance to wander free ever again. The thoughts depressed her frail body as she sank deeper into the lush vegetation, as soft as a blanket which would end up being her grave if The Others didn't get there first. . .
Through the thick canopy, Narla glanced up for one last look at the stars, shining down from a clear sky. They gave her comfort as they watched over her in her hour of need. In Narla’s world, each star was a soul looking down and guiding those in need; Narla was in need and she sighed deeply wanting the pain and loneliness to end. She wished The Others understood her needs and shared her beliefs and wished this now to the stars before her eyes closed.  
A rustling awoke Narla and her eyes widened and her heart beat rapidly. Nearer and nearer it came, footsteps towards her, a familiar smell; the Blonde One. Even in the pitch black of the jungle, Narla knew the Blonde One. But even Narla knew she was too late. But a friendly touch to see her through to the end filled her heart. She heard the Blond One’s strange tongue but recognised the anguish in her voice as her hands tried to release the binds.
“What have they done to you my Narla?” The Blonde One otherwise known as Carrie, gently bathed the wounds, gave her water that Narla could not drink.
“I think we’re too late.” Carrie’s tears fell on Narla’s face knowing Jake was right. She stroked Narla’s orange and black fur, still gloriously soft, and thick despite death creeping foreword. Jack sat next to her, the three of them silent in the jungle.  No words could make this situation better or change the inevitable but Carrie knew her touch soothed Narla. She would not die alone.
Narla knew the end was in sight. She raised her head, nuzzled Carrie before letting out one last gut wrenching roar, so powerful, the forest floor shook. A sleeping jungle came to life as if they knew one of their own was gone, singing, howling their mournful song as Narla began a new journey where freedom would be guaranteed; up among the stars as they shone down, listening and offering help where needed and guiding those who deserved it.   


Monday, 18 February 2013

5 Sentence Fiction Cherish

The small engraved wooden box was there on the top most shelf as it always was, covered in cobwebs and dust, looking ignored but I knew differently, for the old woman cherished this box like it was worth its weight in gold but I could see no monetary value in it; it was just an old box. Now as she lay breathing her last on her threadbare candlewick bedspread, I felt the box calling to me; justifying my desire to take what wasn't mine with little voices begging me to open the box. The shallow breathing of the old woman seemed to egg me on as my finger tips reached for the box, clawing it into my grasp where I immediately brushed away the dust to reveal the full beauty of the box; carvings of beautiful women with flowing hair like a river, balls of sapphires for eyes, mesmerising me to open the box. Gingerly, I opened it; the old woman’s breathing changed as I felt my essence being sucked into the box and her hand gently rest on my shoulder, a hand where thick blue veins disappeared and old spots vanished.
“Thank you my dear” I heard her sing as I saw her oldness and fragility replaced by youth and beauty and my body now just a shrivelled shell as she carefully placed the box on the shelf before skipping outside.

There it is-  five sentence flash fiction from the prompt Cherish.  For more stories, please visit who hosts a new challenge every week. xx

Saturday, 16 February 2013

Vote for your Fav Love Bites Entry. . . . . .

Sharpen Your Pencils and Cast Your Votes

Fan Favourite Contest

Open for votes Friday, February 15 through midnight (est) Sunday, February 17

Vote for your favorite entry in the comment box below by typing in the name of the writer and the title of their story.

In addition to the stories linked below, we have an entrant without a blog whose story is posted HERE, so please be sure to stop by to read, comment and take it into consideration!

* Please Note: stories by Hop Hostesses Elisabeth Koch, Lisa Shambrook and Ruth Long are not eligible for votes.

Writers: get out there and shamelessly pimp your story!

Voters: one vote per person, please!

Winners will be announced Monday, February 18.

Best In Show wins the One Hour Coaching with Rebecca T Dickson

Emotional Whammy wins the Personalized Painting by Lee Clements

Judge’s Favourites win a Bookmark by the Divine Hammer

Fan Favourite wins Bragging Rights and a Bookmark

Questions? Contact a hop hostess:  @Lizzie_Loodles / @LastKrystallos /@LauraHoward78 / @bullishink

Good luck and thank so much for entering our first Blog hop. I know it’s tough only having one vote as all stories, poems are really fantastic. It made my Valentine’s Day perfect as I read them all. xxxx

Thursday, 14 February 2013

Love Bites, Anti-Slush Blog Hop

Second entry into the Inkinglettes Love Bites, Anti-Slush blog hop. I think seeing as I may be a judge (still being debated), it doesn't matter how many times I enter. And if there's a little story to tell, you have to just tell it. x

May the Force (of Love) Be With You.

Amy’s eyes followed Adam; head buried in papers unable to see where he was going let alone who was in the room.  He sat at his desk, absorbed in his work. She’d loved Adam since he arrived six months, three weeks, two days and one hour and nine minutes ago; obviously love at first sight.
She knew he didn't have a girlfriend despite the many admires for his heart (and body). Being Valentine’s Day, it seemed right to send a rose and card with little clues that would lead him romantically to her. Too many Mills and Boon novels had diluted her thinking of the real world; love always the answer, the most powerful force in the universe and Amy was going to use that force on Adam today.
The tux wearing courier (with red bow tie) waltzed in singing his Valentine tune of love as he delivered Valentines.  Eagerly, Amy watched Adam’s face light up as he opened his card and smelt the rose. His smoky eyes drifted across the office and Amy’s heart stopped, she daren’t breath. Her Mills and Boon romance was coming true as Adam walked with such purpose towards her, such intensity in his gaze.
There was no one else in the room; such was her passion for the man walking towards her. She didn't even notice Pete sitting next to her until Adam took him by the hands, gazing deep into his eyes.


I couldn't resist another opportunity to snack St. Valentine in his loved up moosh . be rude not to on today of all days. Happy Valentine's everyone. xxx 

Sunday, 10 February 2013

Love Bites, Anti-Slush Blog Hop

First Holiday

After thirty years, Pamela and Toby were going on their first holiday together, although it would be their last and they were going to make the most of it. Toby struggled as the case clunked loudly. She smiled at him and Toby smiled back, not something either of them had done in years. 
The journey was long, silent except for Pamela’s tutting every time Toby coughed, sneezed and breathed. He ignored her like he always did, turning up the radio. After hours on the road, the rugged hills replaced the concrete causing Toby and Pamela to knowingly smile again at each other. They were nearing their destination.
Parking up the car, they both stuffed their rucksacks with what they needed, ready for their hike into the woods. Following the ancient map and old stories, they finally came across a clearing where they began to set about their preparations as the sun dipped behind the trees.
Pamela and Toby held hands and began to chant then all was still. And they waited. The delicate ringing of the bells they laid told them they were no longer alone. Pamela stood and stared at the cause of her misery. Toby aimed the crossbow and fired. It hit the target true.
“Now that’s got rid of that idiot, best we hurry back for our divorce hearing. I don’t want to be late for that.”
“Pammy? That felt good.” Toby grinned, not having called his wife that in yeas, retrieving the arrow from Cupid’s chest.  


And that's my entry for the Love Bites Anti-Slush blog hop run by the Inklingettes. If you wish to participate  then click on the link below for a full guide on prizes on offer, those pesky rules. You can click on the linky at the bottom of this page to upload your wonderful story for the blog hop too and read and comment on others if you wish. Have lots of Inky fun and mischief folks.

Saturday, 9 February 2013

5 Sentence Fiction Purple

Purple to Claire was such a vibrant, passionate and sensual colour in crushed velvet, smooth suede and chunky knits in every shade from warm lilac to the deepest purple to the brightest violet. It created calm when she arrived home from a busy day as she lounged in her lilac room on plump scatter cushions in various shades of purple that she could sink into and snuggle.
People even said her eyes were violet like that of Elizabeth Taylor and as she stared deep into them from the mirror, she saw they were right even though they had lost their sparkle.
She sighed heavily.
Walking away from the mirror, Claire decided she didn't like purple anymore; the greyish, deep purple bruise on her tender cheek now turned the sensual colour into a brutal reminder to always use a coaster. 

There you have it; five sentences on my favourite colour and a reminder that not all colours are as beautiful as we think. For more fab stories on purple, please visit  


Friday, 8 February 2013

Love Bites The Anti-Slush Blog Hop

This Valentine’s Day, we invite you to join us in thumbing our noses at Cupid, Love and the Whole Schmaltzy Holiday!!
Introducing …

LOVE BITES: An Anti-Valentine Blog Hop

Hostesses: The Inklingettes
Theme: Love Run Amuk, Aground or Otherwise Off Course
Schedule: Friday, February 8 through Thursday, February 14
Word Count: 250 Words
Incentive: Community spirit, inky fun and lots of laughs!

Further Incentive: Prizes! (Judging Details TBA)
* 6 Broken-hearted bookmarks made by the Divine Hammer
* A one-of-a-kind painting personalized with a quote from the winners piece donated by Lee Clements
*A one hour coaching session by Rebecca T Dickson

How To Participate:
·         Write a cheeky anti-valentine story of 250 words or less.
·         Post it on your blog. (If you don’t have a blog, contact any of the hostesses and space will be magically provided).
·         Copy the linky html and blog badge from this page and paste them into your post, beneath your story.
·         Add your post url to the linky.
·         Bop around the interwebz to read and comment on the other entries.
·         Pimp out the hop and entries on Facebook, G+, Twitter and anywhere your heart desires!
·         Don’t Forget: HAVE FUN!
·         Got Questions? Contact any of the hostesses and they’ll be happy to help!


Tuesday, 5 February 2013

Louis Smith . . .We love you!!!!!!!!

Here is a little piece of indulgence using 5 sentences and using the word delicate. It's not a story but a piece about our visit to the O2 to see the Strictly tour and LOUIS!!!!!  Enjoy. x

So pretty and sparkly . . . . . . .

Natalie . .where's Louis?
There was nothing delicate about the audience as we waved frantically and cheered madly as the dancers came on to the stage; their costumes vibrant, sparkling, gorgeous which just doesn't come across on the TV.
One dancer in particular raised the roof, an Olympian for Team GB in Gymnastics and champion of Strictly Come Dancing 2012 Louis Smith; cutie, sexy, talented dancer, cheeky grin and just so darn nice.  
His dancing was amazing; back flips, somersaults, tricks and that iconic lift from Dirty dancing sent us all into a frenzy of cheers, screams and claps and when the judges scored we booed Mr Len Goodman for his measly 8 when Bruno and Craig (Mr Fab-U-Lous himself) gave 10s.
We were lucky enough to have tickets in a corporate box at the O2 thanks to Sister’s boyfriend but it meant he had to come so he brought his friend and my Hubby to keep him company as I sat with my Sister and the Mad American.
Fortunately, Hubby was on hand to take pics and video of the night so I could concentrate on the dancing and the awesome show that is Strictly but after a few beers, his photography skills were failing; I’d say they failed at the start as when I looked through them, they were all of the professional dancer Natalie and my Louis hardly featured . . . . . just desserts though as he had a rather delicate head the following morning. . . .

We couldn't help but clap All. Night. Long

What are you doing Bruno!! (bottom r)

For my real 5 sentence fiction piece, click here for a thriller on Delicate. xxxxx


Saturday, 2 February 2013

5 Sentence Fiction Delicate

The delicate fragrance lingered long after she had passed and he breathed in the intoxicating smell, letting it invade all his senses and his mind. It was all he could think about as he left his seat in the train carriage and followed the smell as the train pulled into the station.
He spotted her walking up the stairs and he quickly made his way off the train unable to ignore the smell any longer; night after night he had smelt her, watched her and ignored her . . . .  until now.  
Now was the right time for him to introduce himself; his confidence overflowing as he picked up his step, hoping to catch her up and share with her his love of perfume, her perfume.
In fact he was sure he carried that very same perfume in his pocket, the very same perfume that he had left with the last woman after she had said no; the newspapers called it his signature and penned him the rather unimaginative 'Perfume Killer'. . .   

Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week lillie mcferrin  will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.