Time Flies – Five Sentence Fiction

August 24, 2014freyathewriter 2 Comments

I can hear my Mum’s voice, clear and bell-like as if she is standing right next to me.

“A watched kettle never boils, Ellie!”

I shrug off the words, shoulders tight and tense, staring intently at the clock on the wall opposite – the second hand barely seems to be moving.

Time is elastic.

My patience, however, is not.

————–

Here is my latest entry into the lovely Lillie’s Five Sentence Fiction, where she has provided this gorgeous photo for us as this week’s inspiration. Please do visit here to read, read, read some more! No two pieces will be the same…

Echo – VisDare

August 24, 2014freyathewriter 8 Comments

Photo source

Mirrors are for the young. I even avoid those streets flanked by high-end stores enshrined in vast sheets of plate glass. Who needs to have their insipid reflection hurled back at them so remorselessly? Who needs to feel like an impostor amongst the throngs of the young and the beautiful?

I was one of them once, you know. I had legs up to there, a cleavage to die for and such grace, like a swan. Oh yes, the boys all wanted me.

The trouble is, in my mind I am still ‘that girl’. I still have ebony curls kissing my shoulders, rosebud lips, alabaster skin and flashing green eyes. I am still devastating. My hips still undulate and I still walk as if the pencil skirt was invented for me.

We all have to grow old, darling, on the outside. Inside, well that’s an entirely different matter…

——

Here’s my latest entry to the lovely Angela’s VisDare.

I hope you enjoy this week’s entry- and please do visit VisDare for amazing poetry and prose!

Submarine – VisDare

August 17, 2014August 17, 2014freyathewriter 2 Comments

I am used to going unnoticed.

I can’t recall all the different streets that I have walked down, the shops, the bars, the hotels that I have passed through where my presence has barely warranted even the tiniest flicker of interest.

It is as if I don’t exist.

Some days, I prefer it that way. Those days are the ones when I desperately want it to remain so, I want anonymity so much I can feel it in the sweaty grip of my palms, the constant turn, turn, turn of the lighter in my trouser pocket, the slight shake of my hands as I light yet another cigarette.

Other times, I have to fight the urge to scream, to roar lion-like, to rip the air in two with my hunger for attention.

There is no easy middle ground. With me, it is all, or nothing.

——

Here’s my latest entry to the lovely Angela’s VisDare. What an inspiring photo! I’m not sure where my imagination unearthed this story from, but hey, at least writer’s block isn’t hauting me!

I hope you enjoy this week’s entry- and please do visit VisDare for amazing poetry and prose!