Remembrance Day

November 9, 2013freyathewriter 8 Comments

I was not just enshrined in black and white
trained to react to a whistle
and launch myself over the top
I didn’t just stare at No Man’s Land
jumping at every falling leaf
nerves shot to pieces, trembling with fear
I was not just shipped hastily to Europe
attempting to aid our Allies
in facing down the Nazi machine
I was not just despatched to the Mediterranean
sand-whipped and sweating
to fight in a theatre far flung from home
I am not a romantic notion of old boys and idealism
telling war stories of camaraderie
I am not decades past.
I am the young man hobbling down the street
I am the hands held out for a bit of spare change
I am the woman bound to a wheelchair
I am the mental health patient facing down the day
I am sitting next to you on the bus.
I am here.
Remember, I am here.

****

Tomorrow is Remembrance Sunday here in the UK, and of course Monday is 11th November, Armistice Day.

Copyright - Nicola J Cutts

Copyright – Nicola J Cutts

Ready, Or Not – NaNo 3VisD 1

November 9, 2013November 9, 2013freyathewriter 4 Comments

Here’s my latest offering for Anonymous Legacy‘s photo-inspired prompt, VisDare. This week, and for the rest of NaNoWriMo, she’s ringing the changes, so the rules are a little different…

Use whichever photo you like for your VisDare.

OR

Use TWO of the photos of your choosing as a combined prompt.

OR

Use ALL THREE of the photos as a combined prompt.

Hmmm…. And we have 300 words to play with, rather than 150! Never one to avoid snatching at a laid down gauntlet, I’m going for all three photos!

(see Lillie McFerrin for image source references)

– Ready, Or Not –

The clearing had barely changed since last year and a momentary element of surprise rippled his skin. Logic reminded him that the chances of another lost soul landing here were non-existent. This place was his, and his alone.

This time, he had brought the tools of modern orienteering. A sat-phone, a GPS and solar-powered batteries all added weight to his backpack, providing a comfort to his anxious mind.

His luminous watch told him that the time was nearly here. Soon, they would appear. In the dark, he checked the settings of his camera, made sure it was ready to fire off shot after shot in rapid succession. All he needed to do was press the button.

He was ready.

***

“Hey! Brad! We’ve found it! The clearing is over there, look!”

“Hallelujah! Boy, I’m gonna give Donny a piece of my mind after this. This place is hotter than Hades!”

“D’you think he had an accident, or something?”

“If he hasn’t, I’ll make sure he has one after this –“

“Holy heck! Oh my, – oh God, Brad, no, quick!”

***

“Today, we remember the soul of Donald Aitken, an explorer and investigator of the Dark Times beyond our time and realm. He pushed the boundaries in an effort to reveal the secrets of this world, and beyond. Sadly, as we know, he chased hard and fast, and this time, met his end. Donald, we salute you.”

The Light Fantastic – Five Sentence Fiction

November 9, 2013freyathewriter 2 Comments

It’s time for my latest offering to Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, a weekly prompt where there is no word limit, just a limit on the number of sentences. Plus, although she provides a word prompt, it is just for direction only – you don’t have to include the word itself in your contribution.

This week, the prompt is – DANCING.

Do let me know what you think of my offering below – and whilst you’re at it, why not take a look at everyone else’s offerings (I’m sure they’ll be fabulous), and even give it a go yourself…

*****

– The Light Fantastic –

Maeve hummed to herself as Georgie guided her round, completing the reverse turn and feather finish to perfection, their signature move.

The music played on, the lights shone, her dress sparkling and glinting as it swayed around her calves – soft kisses against her skin.

Finally it came to an end, and she prepared her stage smile to acknowledge the applause from enchanted audience.

“We’re just too avant-garde for them, sweetheart,” whispered Georgie, as they marched across the dance floor, heads held high.

Silence followed their departure – 1930s Blackpool was just not ready for the sight of two women dancing together in public, not yet.

Lillie McFerrin Writes