What Lies Beneath – Alastair’s Photo Fiction

Here is my offering for Alastair’s Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below.  Why not take part? And why not visit his photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?

Copyright - Kattermonran

Copyright – Kattermonran

– What Lies Beneath –

The four seasons are a distant memory – those days are long gone. Now we have The Dry and The Wet. I miss the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot, the mists hanging in the valleys at sunrise.

The onslaught of rain is tough at first. One day, the sun is high and fierce enough to leave us all parched at each ragged breath, the next the air is heavy, clouds low and pregnant with water. After a few weeks, the downpour ceases for a while, puddles lie still. It is this time that will find me, toes touching the very edge of one of these glistening pools, watching, waiting, staring.

“Alison? Alison! I’m here.”

The voice is faint, as if my imagination is playing cruel tricks. But this is real, agonisingly so.

The Washed Away, they call them. Most believe that they were drowned in the Flood Times, when the heavens opened for four long years. But I know the truth. Yes, they were washed away, but not drowned. Just taken down; down to The Below.

“Mother! It’s so good to see you!”

We smile, making do. It’s all we have.


 

The Old-Fashioned Way – Five Sentence Fiction

It’s time for my latest offering to Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, a weekly prompt where there is no word limit, just a limit on the number of sentences. Plus, although she provides a word prompt, it is just for direction only – you don’t have to include the word itself in your contribution.

This week, the prompt is  – DETERMINATION.

Do let me know what you think of my offering below – and whilst you’re at it, why not take a look at everyone else’s offerings (I’m sure they’ll be fabulous), and even give it a go yourself…

*****

– The Old-Fashioned Way –

I stare at the blank screen, cursing the cursor as it flashes at me, mocking – you have no words, you have no words.

Rearranging my cup of coffee on the table doesn’t help, although it’s a distraction, momentarily.

I can feel the ticking of the clock behind me on the wall – is it getting louder?

My notebook and pen appear in my hands (how did that happen?) and a wave of comfort washes over me.

I switch off the computer, and begin to write.

Lillie McFerrin Writes


Traces – Friday Fictioneers

Here is this week’s entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!

– Traces –

They tear my beloved keyboard to pieces. I try not to mind.

Of course, my mind is taken off them levering it apart when they begin their search on and inside me, convinced that I’m carrying.

Then I remember you stroking the keys, your fingertips lingering on the black and white, finally whispering over my skin. Leaving… traces.

I’m a decoy. You sail through customs, do the switch, hail a taxi, free as a bird.

I’ll be with you soon, once they’ve finished their paperwork. And you’re buying me a new keyboard.

The best, of course.