Category Time
Guardian – Five Sentence Fiction
Alannah is luminous.
I mean literally, not figuratively.
Oh, your eyebrows might rise and your lip might curl in disbelief, but you’ve not met her, have you?
Every night, she stares up at the moon – she shivers when it wanes to a mere sliver, she smiles with relief when it waxes and is fat with promise.
Her man is busy up there, working the machinery that makes the moon do what we take for granted every month – its re-emergence after the time of darkness lets her know that he is safe once more.
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Here’s my latest entry into Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction. The image she has sourced for us this week is gorgeous, isn’t it?
Please do pop along to her blog and find out how other writers have responded!
Post Haste – Sunday Photo Fiction
Working for the Royal Mail used to be something Stephen felt great pride in, carrying on the family tradition of his great-great-great uncle, Samuel Robertson. He had been a forthright gentleman, by all accounts.
Stephen unlocked the curved door of the letterbox and removed the basket from its belly. In a few minutes, the hungry mouth that had swallowed thousands of letters for decades would be blocked up, probably forever. What a sad day.
Reaching into the gloom, Steve ran his hand inside before locking it shut. ‘Just making sure,’ he thought, not really expecting to find anything.
The dusty, dirty envelope he pulled out looked like it had been trapped inside for decades. The writing was faded, but Steve could just make out the name on the front of the envelope. “’Mr Stephen Robertson’,” he read, surprised. “That’s me! But…?”
He opened it, hastily, furtively. It was addressed to him, but how could it be? Was he breaking the law, he wondered? He pulled out the single piece of paper, hands shaking.
“’Dear Stephen, do not decommission this letterbox. There will be consequences. I remain your servant, Samuel Robertson, Esq.’”
“As you ask, Samuel, mate, as you ask,” thought Stephen, driving away.
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Freya Writes... 