A Bitter Pill – Magpie Tales

June 1, 2014freyathewriter 19 Comments

Selina admired her pout in the mirror, sighing and rolling her eyes as the make up artist swooped again. She pushed the girl away, shaking her head. Seriously? Her lips were perfect.

She had fought tooth and nail, told a few lies and slept with the photographer to get this gig. It would make her career.

“Where’s the goddamn pill, girl?” She stamped her foot, holding out her hand imperiously.

Angie bit back a retort – again. She’d had enough of this spoiled brat to last her a lifetime. Still…

“Here you are, Selina, I’m so sorry,” she tried to look contrite. Not long now.

Gelatin. The pill casing contained gelatin.

Such a shame that Selina had a serious allergy…

——

I came across Magpie Tales a little while ago and thought it looked like a fun thing to take part in. I do enjoy a good photo prompt! The rules are to use the photo as inspiration, write a poem or vignette and share on the blog! This image caught my eye this evening, so I thought I would have a go 🙂

Do let me know what you think!

Over and Out – Sunday Photo Fiction

June 1, 2014freyathewriter 17 Comments

Shoes. I hadn’t seen a pair for years, not proper, shop-bought, complete shoes that had a hope of keeping your feet dry.

I remember the patent red pair that Mum had bought me as a little girl. I had loved those shoes, loved how they reminded me of cherries. I could barely remember the taste of any fruit, not any more. Yet still my mouth watered at the thought.

I shielded my eyes from the fierce sun as the shoes danced back and forth, tantalizingly. I bet the wires from which the shoes dangled hadn’t carried messages for a decade.

My feet ached for those shoes. I had made up my mind to retrieve them when a rogue cloud covered the sun. The land around me lost its bleach and I saw that the hillock on the ground was more sinister. It was the remains of a man, long dead, his arm reaching up in a last attempt to gain his prize.

This was a trap. No doubt there were live wires buried in the telegraph pole, ready to pass on their own message to us rebels. We will kill you all.

Not me, not today, I thought.

————–

Here’s my latest entry into Alistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction. He supplies us with his own wonderful photos, so deserves our support! Happy Sunday, all….

Do take part if you have time, or just pop over and read the other entries.

In which nobody is satisfied – VisDare 63

June 1, 2014freyathewriter 9 Comments

worker ants are we

carrying our load

that over the years

has become leaden, unwieldy

and grown knife-sharp

burrs digging into skin and necrotising flesh

eroding and abrading

laden with expectation

wants have transformed into needs

more urgent than water

than the very air we breathe

infinite possibilities are subsumed

in unrelenting grey dolour

as unstoppable as time itself

it takes strength to resist

to walk away from the pressure

and those who say ‘just do it’

and those who say ‘it’s not that easy’

are both right

each from their own perspective

each from their own prison

each hearing, but not listening –

empathy is necessary

more so these days than ever, perhaps

and yet the white noise deafens

we are hoodwinked and blinded

and through wilful isolation

we choose to fail to realise –

we are not alone.

——-

Here’s my latest entry into VisDare this week, the prompt run by the lovely Angela. I have chosen to write in poetic form this time, but of course, I have met the guide of using 150 words or less! Please feel free to read, comment, critique or just enjoy, whatever you prefer.

I am going through a bit of a political phase on my blog at the moment, as you will see from here and here. Of course, all of life is political and politics invites people to disagree with your opinions. Wouldn’t life be dull (or horrific) if we all had the same viewpoint? I’m not great at arguments, they do put me in turmoil. But life requires you to be brave, right?