Stop All the Clocks – Alastair’s Photo Fiction

October 1, 2013freyathewriter 5 Comments

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 - A Mixed Bag

Copyright – A Mixed Bag

– Stop All the Clocks –

Eric wondered whether the clock’s stopping had taken place in broad daylight, or whether the hands had ceased their relentless turning in the London night, unremarked by human eyes.

His day swallowed him whole, the passing thoughts faded into the background. Two weeks later, on his first day back to work from his annual summer holiday, the ever-still hands locked at just before twenty to three caught his eye straight away. He reached his office, shut the door and picked up the phone.

“Yes, hello. Your clock doesn’t seem to be working. Did you know about it?”

Eric liked order, above all things. On putting the receiver back in its cradle, he felt satisfied at having alerted the management to the problem.

On his way home, he opened the Evening Standard, settling down to read. At the bottom of page 7, a news item caught his eye and his satisfaction disappeared, replaced by a strange empty feeling.

“Hotel clock winder dies on duty”

Still, at least he had helped them find the poor old man.

The Boy – Five Sentence Fiction

September 27, 2013freyathewriter 6 Comments

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 – MAGNETIC.

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 Boy –

The boy stared, the tingling that had started in his fingertips crawling up his arms like an army of ants; they had all told him not to open the door.

It wasn’t anything special, just plain wood that could do with a lick of paint – in its prime it must have been scarlet, now it was dulled with age and several flakes lay on the floor, crispy like autumn leaves; they crunched under his shoes.

He sidled closer, reaching out to touch the handle, pulling his fingers back sharply as they made contact with the cold metal.

The boy muttered to himself “Do it!”

Closer, yet closer, hand hovering over the handle; still he couldn’t steel himself to grasp, and push…

Lillie McFerrin Writes

The Choosing – VisDare 39

September 25, 2013freyathewriter 20 Comments

Here’s my latest offering for Anonymous Legacy‘s photo-inspired prompt, VisDare. This week’s prompt word is ‘Adore’. The rules are simple:

150 words – or less.

Post entry to your blog and “link in”.

(Please – no erotica or graphic violence.)

DON’T FORGET to read and comment on others’ entries!!

The photo is below, and my piece follows. Let me know what you think, and give it a go yourself, why not?

Image Source

– The Choosing –

“Who is she again?”

“We call her Mother.”

“Yes, but who is she?”

“Mother. That’s all.”

“You don’t understand. I need to know her bloodline, her ancestors, her descendants. It’s important!”

“Why?”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?”

“Why is it important? What is the difference?”

“My research…”

“It is of no consequence. She will still be of us. She will still love and be loved in return. She will still be Mother.”

The man stared, swallowed. The grey eyes stared back, unblinking.

“Come. Come and be with us. Meet Mother. Just be.”

The man stood, feeling strangely at peace. He allowed himself to be drawn in, to meet Mother.

His research could wait.

*****