Reaping and Sowing – Five Sentence Fiction

September 7, 2014freyathewriter 9 Comments

Kit was an utterly marvellous boy – I called him that because he seemed so young, such a rough diamond and oh! such a refreshing change from the insipid and polished eldest sons of eldest sons Father insisted I meet.

Of course, I knew it was impossible – Father would no more have let me walk out with Kit than if I had asked to marry one of the toads ringing the marshy edges of our lake.

Sadly, oh so sadly, Kit never could understand how these things worked – as far as he was concerned, an honest job meant he was an honest man, and that should be good enough for anybody, even the likes of Captain de Riviera.

It was partly my fault, I confess that now – I had no way of knowing how to handle such a virile and passionate creature, and I led him on, far too far…

Poor Kit… and not to mention, poor me.

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Here is my latest entry into the lovely Lillie’s Five Sentence Fiction, where she has provided this beuatiful photo for us as this week’s inspiration.

This week, my tale follows on from a flash fiction piece I wrote for VisDare, as the images seemed to work well together.

Please do visit here to read, read, read some more! No two pieces will be the same…

Anchor – Magpie Tales

August 17, 2014August 17, 2014freyathewriter 20 Comments

Yell Sound, Shetland, 2014, by R.A.D. Stainforth

I am finding it hard to watch. My ship is pulling away, not from the shore, but from its sister ship pitching and yawing as it heads out of the mouth of the bay and into the open sea.

There is no protection out there, no place to hide from either the gale force winds, or the waves as high and hard as mountains. The battering will be relentless.

I turn away, feeling a rush of betrayal. My betrayal of him as I turn my back, and his betrayal of me as he has once again refused my pleas to stop, to stay on board with me in the safety of the harbour.

It is complex, our relationship. Built on shaky foundations – built on none at all, some would say, those who are sticklers for truth, those who are pedants. Ships do not have foundations. Only hollow hulls.

I whip round, face out to sea once more. I lift the binoculars, blinking as the ship fills my vision. A solitary figure is standing on the deck, binoculars trained on me.

I wave.

He waves in return.

I wait for his return. There is nothing else that I can do.

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Here is my latest entry into Magpie Tales – please do pop over there for more writerly goodness!

Contours – Five Sentence Fiction

August 17, 2014freyathewriter 13 Comments

Photo source

“Millicent, my dear, I do believe we are hopelessly lost – Father will have an apoplexy if we are late for the Farquhar-Johnson’s soiree!”

“Phooey, Regina – he will not notice our absence, not one bit of it! I hear Lady de Havilland will be putting in an appearance… you know he is like a dog on heat when she is in town!”

“Oh, Millicent, what are you saying?”

“You know exactly what I am saying dear sister – you don’t need a map to work out where Father will be staying the night…”

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Here is my latest entry into Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction. Such an innocent and elegant scene – hiding such secrets – well, in my head anyway! Please do pop over to read other pieces – sure to be varied, sure to be entertaining!