All posts tagged: freewrite


Thighs tangled they lay twisted, parched by stars and too long nights drawing into too long days. He spoke of candy. Called her sugar, sweet. Made her feel brittle, caramel cooked too long. He was slick, slipping in with ease to find a core, something central to nibble, erode. She fought. Broke. Snapped. Then glued the broken pieces back. This is my response for the second prompt list by Inspiration Call: Creative Talents Unleashed and could almost be a follow up to my response ‘Three Exits Past Memory Lane’ for the third prompt list.

Three Exits Past Memory Lane

We parked up three exits pasts Memory Lane, you pushing keys on an old Nokia brick, waving it across my seat for signal while I sipped water, bottled and lukewarm. I didn’t say this was a waste, though it was of something. You- You and your chase for old conversations, old moments, an old haunt you forgot and then remembered. I stayed silent, sipping water and watching you wave. Written for Inspiration Call: Creative Talents Unleashed list three.

Darkness On Newmarket Highstreet

“Darkness is simply the absence of light, and what is light if not love!” Esmee watched as the short, little man with black hair and an orange beard preached his sermon from his wooden crate halfway up Newmarket High Street.  “What a nutter,” said the woman beside her on the bench, stabbing a plastic fork into a pasta-pot before drawing both fork and container as close to her mouth as she could. “BE SOMEONE’S LIGHT AND BANISH THEIR DARKNESS!” screamed the preacher. No, Esmee thought, sliding her hand into her pocket, playing in the darkness was much more fun.

Darkened Daughter Extract – Rickets Den

You did not got to the Purple Pig to drink. You went there for whores and information. Before the new King’s reign Molly’s tavern had been one of the most successful in Dondara. Now it was nothing more than a crooked sign and a few worm eaten tables crammed into the darkness. “Are you sure we’ve got the right place?” Mole kept close as his Captain hurried down the city streets towards Rickets Den. Behind them the stone houses of the wealthy seemed to glow softly in the moonlight, oil lamps dotted along the cobbled streets to ward off the shadows.  Rickets Den on the other hand was a mass of shadows, curling and twisting around the wooden buildings which tumbled into one another and disappeared into the depths of the old mining pits. Mole wasn’t a brave man. He was really quite timid by all accounts with a thin reedy voice and a thick, short stature that left many confusing him with a child. Danny found him useful for sneaking into tight spaces but …

Save Yourself [Contains Swearing]

“You didn’t even try to save me!” Amanda gasped, hands clutching her knee-caps as if she’s afraid they may fall off onto the seed-weed strewn floorboards of the cabin at any moment. “You were fine,” Griffin drawled. He keeps his eyes fixed on the mechanisms of his gun, polish rag dropped in his laps as he tries to find whatever’s jamming. Before she walked in he’s been swearing twelve shades of blue and threatening to feed Jarred to the dogs. Who Jarred was she hadn’t got a clue. “You left me to drown!” she snapped, voice stronger now she wasn’t spitting up salt-water. “You were performing what looked like a pretty effective butterfly manoeuvre to me.” “I was flailing!” “And wonderfully so!” grinned Griffin. “Why didn’t you do something?” she demanded. “I could have died and then it would have been on you!” Griffin shrugged. “I could have tried to save you I suppose. However, I didn’t want to offend you.” “Offend me? How the fuck would you saving me from drowning offend me?” she …

Lindsey; Three Blocks Down From West Avenue (Contains swearing)

“Did you hear about that Lindsey chick three blocks down from West Avenue?” Jack snorted and threw his elbow into Edward’s ribs. “Course I know about that Lindsey chick. Lindsey Legs Eleven.” “Legs eleven?” Edward said. “You been going to bingo with your Gran again. Dude! What did I tell you about old people!” “You ain’t said nothin’ about old people.” said Jack. “You were saying about Legs Eleven.” “You know that sounds kinda weird.” “How so?” “Eleven, like eleven years old.” “Ah gross man! What do you take me for?” “A virgin mostly.” Edward grinned. “Fuck you. Just tell me what happened with Lindsey.” “Oh her? She died. Fell though the floorboards or something. Nasty. Scared the downstairs neighbour half to death according to Foz.” “You know Foz is a liar right?” “Course Foz is a liar. You think I don’t know that. But sometimes even Foz tells the truth.” “So Lindsey’s dead.” “Yer dead.” “Fuck.” “I know. Who you goin’ to bang now?”

November, Novels and Physio

I’m starting a month of routines. I need to write at least 1600 words each day to finish Nanowrimo and complete my novel The Lady Winters, I need to complete a series of exercises each evening to increase the strength in my legs since currently there is none, and I really need to get back to learning French and Latin. On the Physio side I at least know now why I get pain in my knees on a fairly regular basis. My knee cap is not sitting where it should be and the lack of muscle in my thighs isn’t helping matter. So it’s bum, tum and thigh work out for me on a daily basis. Fun, fun. (I am not a sport enthusiast. I like indoors. You don’t get rain.) Anyway, on the writing front which is probably the bit you lot are interest in, it is November again which means Nanowrimo! Genuine whoo! (I am a writing enthusiast. I blooming love it!) As I have mentioned in a previous post, this year I’m …


“Just told his attention.” Tom said. “Don’t let it stay back to us.” Those had been the instructions, passed over with the six inch heels and the crimson dress. “Isn’t this-” I held the fabric between thumb and forefinger, thinking that even that pinch-full covered too large of a proportion. “Isn’t this all a little clichéd?” Tom shrugged, collar turned up and fedora pulled low over his brow. “Maybe” he said. “But that ain’t the point; the point is that I don’t want that geezer looking our way. Not while me and the boys are sorting the business.” My lips curled and pursed. “I—” “I don’t want to hear it doll.” snapped Tom. “I told ya what I want doin’. Now get to it. You gotta keep that boy transfixed!”