Tag Creative Writing

The Cast – Five Sentence Fiction

freyathewriter 6 Comments

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I can’t sleep – my brain is churning, cogitating, processing, analysing, digesting.

Who are these people?

What do they look like, where do they live, do they drink tea or coffee, do they smoke, do they have families, do they have an agenda, and if so, what?

I wish they would reveal their secrets more easily, I wish they would pour out their life stories, without me having to reel them in like so many wriggling, writhing salmon.

But on the other hand, pinning these people down – it’s at least half the fun.

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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…

Parallel – Five Sentence Fiction

freyathewriter 4 Comments

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The Girl stands at the far end of the platform.

She checks her watch, stares along the curve of the tracks glistening in the sunlight, then checks her watch again.

Amongst the busy, non-stop crowd of commuters, she is conspicuous, rooted to the spot, unmoving apart from the lift of her wrist to check the time, and then the tilt of her head to search for the train.

Her small movements are metronomic.

And then, then train arrives – she steps aboard, disappears – and she is free.

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Here is my latest entry into the lovely Lillie’s Five Sentence Fiction, where she has provided this inspirational 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…

Lurk – Magpie Tales

freyathewriter 12 Comments

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They think that I only have myself to blame, those who look upon me from afar. They, who are safe in the knowledge that their lives are sorted. They gaze upon me. They see only what they want to see.

Once, in the glory days. I was like them. From high on my pedestal, I judged, I commented, I highlighted the shortcomings of others. I was sure I knew it all.

Oh, how times change. Here I am, eking out my existence on the periphery. This underpass is my home, for tonight at least. Tomorrow, I move on, as always. Tomorrow, I sit with my hand out, waiting for coins to be tossed in my direction, as always.

I move on, but I don’t move far. I circle the town, spending my days in the streets where my former friends still shop and eat and drink. They see me. I am the only person static in a frenetic, non-stop world. They see me. They resent me. I am the reminder that life can turn on you in an instant.

I am the conscience they would rather not have.

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Here’s my latest entry into Magpie Tales. I don’t know why this picture of cosy winter socks took me down this road. Sometimes, the muse is slant-eyed…

Please visit Magpie Tales for more creativity – you know you want to!