A Bitter Pill – Magpie Tales

June 1, 2014freyathewriter 19 Comments

Selina admired her pout in the mirror, sighing and rolling her eyes as the make up artist swooped again. She pushed the girl away, shaking her head. Seriously? Her lips were perfect.

She had fought tooth and nail, told a few lies and slept with the photographer to get this gig. It would make her career.

“Where’s the goddamn pill, girl?” She stamped her foot, holding out her hand imperiously.

Angie bit back a retort – again. She’d had enough of this spoiled brat to last her a lifetime. Still…

“Here you are, Selina, I’m so sorry,” she tried to look contrite. Not long now.

Gelatin. The pill casing contained gelatin.

Such a shame that Selina had a serious allergy…

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I came across Magpie Tales a little while ago and thought it looked like a fun thing to take part in. I do enjoy a good photo prompt! The rules are to use the photo as inspiration, write a poem or vignette and share on the blog! This image caught my eye this evening, so I thought I would have a go 🙂

Do let me know what you think!

Over and Out – Sunday Photo Fiction

June 1, 2014freyathewriter 17 Comments

Shoes. I hadn’t seen a pair for years, not proper, shop-bought, complete shoes that had a hope of keeping your feet dry.

I remember the patent red pair that Mum had bought me as a little girl. I had loved those shoes, loved how they reminded me of cherries. I could barely remember the taste of any fruit, not any more. Yet still my mouth watered at the thought.

I shielded my eyes from the fierce sun as the shoes danced back and forth, tantalizingly. I bet the wires from which the shoes dangled hadn’t carried messages for a decade.

My feet ached for those shoes. I had made up my mind to retrieve them when a rogue cloud covered the sun. The land around me lost its bleach and I saw that the hillock on the ground was more sinister. It was the remains of a man, long dead, his arm reaching up in a last attempt to gain his prize.

This was a trap. No doubt there were live wires buried in the telegraph pole, ready to pass on their own message to us rebels. We will kill you all.

Not me, not today, I thought.

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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.

All’s Well That Ends Well – Sunday Photo Fiction

May 25, 2014freyathewriter 6 Comments

“Talk about fair weather friend, Rob! You’re alright for a laugh and a joke, but as soon as there’s any sign of trouble, you’re off! I don’t know what’s got into you these past few weeks!”

I can’t look Jim in the eyes. He’s right. I haven’t been my usual self.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Err, umm, I, umm…”

“Oh for goodness sake, it doesn’t matter. Try and get Jackson’s onside and remember, they’re our largest account. We can’t afford to lose them.”

“Yes, Jim. Sorry.”

“I suppose you’ve forgotten it’s my fiftieth birthday? For once, I’d like to see my wife and kids for more than half an hour tonight.”

I swallow nervously, pulling at my shirt collar. Oh God, I hope it will be OK…

“Well, what are you waiting for? Open the door, stop faffing about!”

“No, Jim, you do it, I –“

“Oh good grief! Alright, I’ll go in first they’re not going to –“

“SURPRISE!”

The door is yanked out of Jim’s hand, streamers whirl across the room, party poppers explode and all Jim’s friends and family are smiling and raising glasses to toast the health of my best friend.

Of course I hadn’t forgotten. Fair weather friend indeed!

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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!

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