Image courtesy of Liz Young.
‘I’m dying.’ Panic builds.
‘Shh. You’re not. I won’t let you.’ He tightens his grip on my hand and I remember the first time he laced his fingers through mine. We had picnicked under the sunflower sun, the smell of cut grass drifting through the breeze. Now it’s the stench of hospitals that sticks in my throat. Dettol and decay.
‘I want to die.’ I can’t bear the pain anymore.
‘You said that last time you gave birth but it was worth it afterwards when you held our baby, remember? Midwife says not long now. Relax.’
‘Relax?’ Bastard. I hate you.’
I missed last week’s Friday Fictioneers. I was trying to juggle the school holidays with finishing the first draft of book 3, but the end is in sight! I also took part in a local library incentive which made me cry, which you can read about here.
I’ve tried to keep this week’s story lighthearted. I’m sure from the prompt there will be many entries bringing a lump to the throat. ‘Unbearable’ was written for Friday Fictioneers. A weekly 100 word story challenge, hosted by Rochelle, inspired by a photo prompt.
Image courtesy of Jennifer Pendergast
You loved playing dress up, twirling in my far-too-large wedding dress until your heel caught in the lace and you tumbled onto the dried grass.
‘Mummy.’ Your lip trembled and I plucked a buttercup, shining gold in the sun, telling you it was a magic flower. All was well in your small world once more.
I blink. Somehow time has slipped passed. Weeks, months, years.
You rush towards me. This time it’s a gown and mortar board that swamps your still-small frame.
‘Mum!’ You’re nervous. I push a buttercup into your hand.
‘Collect your degree, darling.’
Your world is larger now, but I’m still here. Always.
‘Buttercups’ was written for Friday Fictioneers. A weekly 100 word story challenge inspired by a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle.
Image courtesy of Shaktiki Sharma
‘Dan said ‘I’m going to give Stella the sack.’ Hilda relayed.
Stella’s throat burned hot. How could he? Today? It’s 30 years since she started here. Not that anyone remembered. She’d helped his wife arrange a birthday party for him too.
Stella fired off an email telling her boss everyone called him fish breath behind his back. She pressed send and gathered her belongings and her dignity, and stood.
‘Not going anywhere, Stella?’ Dan carried in a cake. Thirty candles flickering. ‘I said this morning I’m going to get you back for the party and surprise you!’
‘Sorry,’ mouthed Hilda. ‘Misheard.’
This week my sister asked for a more lighthearted story and as it’s International Women’s Day and she’s the strongest woman I know I had to step outside my comfort zone and give it a go.
Big thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed and recommended The Sister. Yesterday my publisher rang to congratulate me on half a million sales. You can read the first thought that popped into my head here. World Book Day was another step outside my comfort zone. An introverted writer giving a talk to 250 kids. What could possibly go wrong? I blogged about that here.
‘Act in haste’ was written for Friday Fictioneers. A weekly 100 word story challenge inspired by a photo prompt and organised by Rochelle.
Image courtesy of Ted Strutz
‘What am I supposed to do with loaves and fishes?’ I swallow the hot lump that rises in my throat. Soon the kids will be home, hungry, not that this is a home, with the endless smell of mildew. The wallpaper blackening and curling.
‘I suppose you can’t turn water into wine either?’ Rob trails kisses along my collarbone.
‘You’re always hoping for a miracle.’ I push him hard. ‘Get a real job.’
‘I’ll get a book deal.’
Rob tears open the post. As he reads a smile stretches across his face. ‘You know that miracle you were hoping for?’
Yesterday I wrote a blog post about Friday Fictioneers which you can read here.
A writer’s life is not an easy one! Loaves & Fishes was written for Friday Fictioneers. A weekly 100 word flash fiction challenge inspired by a photo prompt. You can read the other entries over a host Rochelle’s blog here.
Image courtesy Roger Bultot
‘They were such a lovely couple, I can’t quite believe it’s happened’ says the woman wrapping her arms around herself as if she is cold, although this is the warmest March on record for years. At the side of the kerb, as close as the emergency services will allow, friends and neighbours huddle together. The sight of their shocked faces, tissues dabbing at tears, is such a contrast to the neat borders bursting with snowdrops and the reporter thinks they would make a great shot. The joy of Spring tempered by tragedy. New life highlighting the rawness of loss.
Apologies – I admit I’ve cheated a little this week as I’ve today written the above for my WIP but when I checked out the prompt it fitted perfectly. Friday Fictioneers is a weekly 100 word photo challenge inspired by a photo prompt. Hop over to host Rochelle’s blog to read the other entries or join in yourself.
Image courtesy of Al Forbes
‘We’ll be best friends forever won’t we?’ She asks, piercing the daisy stem with her thumbnail and threading another flower through. ‘Finished.’ She loops the chain around my neck and as she draws back and studies me, the scent of her lemon shampoo lingers. ‘You look beautiful,’ she says.
She races across the field, honey-hair shimmering in the sun, tanned arms pumping by her sides. My January-pale stumpy legs struggle to keep up.
I want to tell her she’s the one that’s beautiful but I’m just her best friend, and my heart aches as I know that’s all I’ll ever be.
Written for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 word story challenge inspired by a photo prompt (my story this week inspired by the BF on the numberplate).
To read the other entries hop over to host Rochelle’s blog here.
Image courtesy of Dale Rogerson
There are grey spaces in my mind where my memories used to be. Even now, I can’t quite remember the events of that night.
That’s what I tell them anyway. Regret stings yellow and sour at the back of my throat as I swallow down my lies.
It was an accident. It must have been.
Except it wasn’t.
My shame burns red.
Green was the colour of the carpet I loosened at the top the stairs. Blue was your language as you tumbled to the floor.
White are the lilies I lay on your grave.
My soul is black and weeping.
A huge thank you to everyone in the US who has bought, reviewed and recommended The Gift. I am delighted it has, this week, joined The Sister on the USA Today Bestsellers List.
‘A Rainbow of Regret,’ was written for Friday Fictioneers. A weekly 100 word story challenge inspired by a photo prompt. Hop over to host Rochelle’s blog and read the other entries here, or join in!