Contours – Five Sentence Fiction

August 17, 2014freyathewriter 13 Comments

Photo source

“Millicent, my dear, I do believe we are hopelessly lost – Father will have an apoplexy if we are late for the Farquhar-Johnson’s soiree!”

“Phooey, Regina – he will not notice our absence, not one bit of it! I hear Lady de Havilland will be putting in an appearance… you know he is like a dog on heat when she is in town!”

“Oh, Millicent, what are you saying?”

“You know exactly what I am saying dear sister – you don’t need a map to work out where Father will be staying the night…”

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Here is my latest entry into Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction. Such an innocent and elegant scene – hiding such secrets – well, in my head anyway! Please do pop over to read other pieces – sure to be varied, sure to be entertaining!

Deluge – Five Sentence Fiction

July 20, 2014freyathewriter 12 Comments

The raindrops pelt my hair, my face, my arms, my hands until I am drenched.

I stand in the empty street, arms outstretched, palms turned upwards, embracing the clouds above.

I know eyes are watching me from behind nets, behind doors held slightly ajar and deep in the shadows just out of reach of the streetlight’s glare.

I know they are whispering behind hands and underneath raised eyebrows – to them I am the woman who has lost her mind with grief, for nobody sane stands in the street, in the rain, in her nightgown.

But I do – it is a relief to feel something other than the weight of profound loss – it is a relief to feel so refreshed.

Cinders – VisDare 70

July 20, 2014July 20, 2014freyathewriter 4 Comments

“It’s simply not fair, Mother. She looks so elegant in that stupid, simple dress. I must have one exactly like it, made out of silk, rather than cotton.”

“Philomena, you will not ask Madame Reynaud for another dress. That poor woman has worked her fingers to the bone as it is.”

Philomena threw her fine lace shawl to the floor in disgust. “Only because you allowed her to make an outfit for that tramp as well!”

Lady Fawcett grasped her daughter firmly by the shoulder angrily. “You need to learn that graciousness and manners are what makes Eloise beautiful, not her dress. I am sad to say that you could wear her clothes all day long and you would never look as radiant as your step-sister.”

Blunt words they may have been, but Lady Fawcett feared that they had fallen on deaf ears. Her daughter was already too far gone.

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Here’s my latest entry into VisDare this week, the prompt run by the lovely Angela. I saw an element of competiton in this photo, with each of the ladies trying to float higher than the others! Please do pop over to her blog and read the other submissions – no two will be alike!