Oil and Water – VisDare

September 7, 2014September 7, 2014freyathewriter 4 Comments

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Little Mo is well-known in these parts.

We’ve all seen her, even Lighterman Roberts with his tricorn hat and air of disdain. He won’t admit it, won’t confess to a sighting of the supernatural, but I’ve heard him as he walks down the streets, lighting the lamps at dusk-fall. He claims to be talking to his dog, a grizzled lurcher by the name of Mutt. In public, and especially when he’s in his cups, he treats that poor animal like dirt. There’s no way he’d bill and coo at Mutt as if he was wooing a lady. No, he’s seen Little Mo alright, and I fancy she tippy-toes alongside him in the cobbled streets every night.

She came to a dark end, did Little Mo. She was Captain de Riviera’s youngest daughter. He spoiled her so, and she got to thinking she could charm the birds off the trees. Instead, all she charmed was a feckless youth from our mean streets, teasing him with her fancy ways. It was enough to drive a poor young man wild.

That’s what Lighterman Roberts tells her, anyway.

I reckon he knows all about Little Mo. and I reckon she deserved it.

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

I hope you enjoy this week’s tale – I’ve tied it in with my Five Sentence Fiction entry this week, where you just might get to hear Little Mo’s side of the story!

Please do visit VisDare for amazing poetry and prose!

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.

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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

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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…

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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!