Submarine – VisDare

August 17, 2014August 17, 2014freyathewriter 2 Comments

I am used to going unnoticed.

I can’t recall all the different streets that I have walked down, the shops, the bars, the hotels that I have passed through where my presence has barely warranted even the tiniest flicker of interest.

It is as if I don’t exist.

Some days, I prefer it that way. Those days are the ones when I desperately want it to remain so, I want anonymity so much I can feel it in the sweaty grip of my palms, the constant turn, turn, turn of the lighter in my trouser pocket, the slight shake of my hands as I light yet another cigarette.

Other times, I have to fight the urge to scream, to roar lion-like, to rip the air in two with my hunger for attention.

There is no easy middle ground. With me, it is all, or nothing.

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Here’s my latest entry to the lovely Angela’s VisDare. What an inspiring photo! I’m not sure where my imagination unearthed this story from, but hey, at least writer’s block isn’t hauting me!

I hope you enjoy this week’s entry- and please do visit VisDare for amazing poetry and prose!

Guardian – Five Sentence Fiction

August 10, 2014freyathewriter 12 Comments

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!

Young Man! – Sunday Photo Fiction

July 6, 2014freyathewriter 3 Comments

Rumour has it that the bells of St Christopher’s refused to be tolled since the Reverend de Montfort left to visit his oldest and most far-flung parishioner, Jacob Reader on the afternoon of 25th July last year

The Reverend, an energetic and forthright man was robust, sensible and didn’t suffer fools gladly. As the warden often said, the vicar was definitely not a pushover.

A single man, the Reverend had fended himself all his life, only allowing the Church to fund an office manager so that his diary remained organised and his days well-planned.

So his disappearance was definitely out of character, and his parishioners mourned his loss with vigour.

As the anniversary of the Reverend’s disappearance approached, the men and women of the parish wondered when the Bishop would admit that the beloved clergyman was gone for good.

They were all rudely awoken by celebratory pealing of the church bells as the sun rose on Sunday, 25^th July. Reverend d Montfort strode down the village high street, wonder in his eyes, a smile on his lips. On his arm was a beautiful young man, a true Adonis.

“Chris, welcome to my church, my village, my parish. Isn’t it lovely?”

“Oh yes, Robert, it is. Uncle Jake is a lucky, lucky man.”

The parishioners were stunned at the turn of events, but were pleased to have Reverend back and truly happy after all these years. Especially the warden, who said that young Chris was a delight, to anyone that would listen.

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Here’s my latest entry into Alistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction. He supplies us with his own wonderful photos, so deserves our support! Happy Sunday, all….

Do take part if you have time, or just pop over and read the other entries.