Monthly Archives: March 2014

Why write?

penFingers hover and my mind strains. There’s no movement. The world is melting pot of stories and I can’t find one! I only need fifty five words, it cannot be that hard.

An alert arrives; a happy reader, inspiration at last.

Fingers chase my rushing mind. I’ve remembered the smiles, the true reason I write.

Daily prompt: Writerly reflections



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You’ve been given a name,
whether you like it or not.
And you’ll be given more,
no doubt it’ll be ugly or hot.
Whatever may happen,
or how sad you become.
Don’t let these labels,
define you or what you’ve done

Part five in a poetry series called life.

Daily prompt: The power of names


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Sorry Stevie

Englands-Steven-Gerrard-s-008He could only see his feet, ankles and annoying sculpted calves but that was enough. Retirement never felt more like a reality.

Looking down at his worn boots he stood, straightening his stiffening back before struggling back into the defensive line. His feared this day, but lived fuelled by delusion.

His golden years were over.

Daily prompt: Golden years


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She holds on because she’s told to 

and because she feels secure 

Dad holds on because he fears 

and because of his love for her 

He fears the day she says goodbye 

“I don’t need ten hugs a day” 

She doesn’t see past sundown 

He envies her in this way


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I sit idly watching the heat rise through her body. It’s 4 am and the fire has been burning throughout the night.

Attempts have been made but without sleep the resistance is fading.

Her temperature is too much,  she won’t take panadol.  Tired and emotional, I’ll watch her sleep and pray she doesn’t burn.


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Demonic decibels

Woken abruptly by the sound, the room seemed entirely untouched; freshly pressed clothes in a pile, window shut, draws slightly ajar and his daughter fast asleep.

Stooped low beside the bed, he kissed his angel. That’s when the sound returned; a low rumbling like a dog’s growl, his daughter’s hands violently clawing at his throat.

Daily prompt: Talking in your sleep


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Shrieking beast

Sheiking squirel

The crunching of gravel underfoot was interrupted by a shrieking squirrel. Standing together in silence, they watched the rustling bushes through falling leaves.

“What is it Daddy?”

The rustling stopped and they moved closer.

“I don’t know” he replied, looking at the squirrel’s bloody remains, “but something tells me, we don’t want to find out.”

I wrote this story for the weekly 55 word challenge at Jezri’s Nightmares … and it won! What better way to celebrate my 100th post!?


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Step 1. Understand the question

1000wordsDiscovered, stolen, young, proud, brave, brief … Sam counted the six words he’d written before his head dropped in to waiting hands.

Criminals, convicts, salvation … he added three more before giving up.

‘This is useless’ he thought. ‘How am supposed to write 1000 words on Australian history if I’m struggling to reach double figures.

In response to the Five Sentence Fiction prompt – Misunderstanding


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Life will throw us  many curve balls,
some slow, some wide and some too fast.
But will also serve up hot meals,
providing fuel that will last.
It is this warmth that we must see,
acknowledge that it exists.
Enjoy, savor and let it be,
an experience not to miss
Part four in a poetry series called life



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On duty

Seasons will surely pass on by
and only some will bring joy.
During my winters I will cry,
but with my summers, oh boy!
Take the good with the bad I will
keep fighting, never do I bend.
Through falling leaves and frost until,
My duty comes to the end.

Part 3 of a poetry series called Life and a response to The Daily Prompt


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