Resurrected – VisDare 66

June 19, 2014freyathewriter 2 Comments

I grew up in silence, a hindrance to my parents.

The woman would stare at me. I soon learned to disappear like the morning mists.

They didn’t want me, and yet the times that I left were countered with them hunting me down.

Irony dogs me now, its reprimand fiercer than any they could ever inflict. My heart is barren and blasted and yet here I am, in charge of this child.

I don’t know who she is. We could be the only people left alive after The Burning. The land is scorched and skeleton trees pierce the white-hot sky.

Who is she?

She is terrified. I remember such a feeling.

I allow the carapace around my heart to crack. I take her small hand in mine. I am awkward, lost in my own wilderness.

“Will you look after me?”

The words fall from my lips, not hers.

——-

Here’s my latest entry into VisDare this week, the prompt run by the lovely Angela. The response came to me almost immediately – it’s a beautiful, heart-wrenching image. Please do pop over to her blog and read the other submissions – no two will be alike!

Blowout – Friday Fictioneers

June 6, 2014freyathewriter 29 Comments

Here is my latest entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

– Blowout –

You’ll damage your eyesight, watching TV in the dark.

That’s what Mum used to say. She would turn the living room light on and destroy my fantasy hideaway.

Mum’s gone now, they all are. I am forced to make a choice. Should I use what little power I have managed to conserve on light, or on connecting with the outside world?

Candles it is.

I shiver, pulling my blanket close, cold fingers rasping against the harsh fibres. The gales are nearing hurricane force again tonight, the wind turbines have been shut down for weeks.

So much for a cozy hideaway.

—-

Click on the blue froggy below to read others’ offerings!

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.