Daily Picspiration - Wedding Twister

The second of the two Daily Picspiration pieces I wrote prior to my two weeks away in Italy, was also inspired by both pictures. I saw one, then the other and the story was just there in my head. This one took a bit of fiddling with, and it took me a while to get the ending to come right, but I got there in the end - leaving it and coming back to it a couple of times worked.


Posted on August 17th, you can read 'Wedding Twister' here.

Daily Picspiration - We only live once

While I was on holiday in Italy, two Daily Picspiration went up that I had written prior to going. I have finished with the serial I was writing and returned to singular flash pieces.

The first one was inspired by both pictures and immediately came to mind. An apocalyptic tale, maybe with whispers of 'Waterworld' - a film I loved.

Posted on August 3rd, you can read 'We only live once' here.



  

Horror Bites - Troublesome Trips

The new Horror Bites photo prompt offered lots of different avenues for a little horror tale, and although I had one idea in mind, it turned into another as I wrote. Enjoy!

Elisabeth lay on the sun lounger and tried to relax, soaking up the last of the Italian sun. She moved a strand of hair out of her face and noticed her nails. The enamel was starting to chip. She wondered if the beauty salon in the resort was any good. Then she noticed a dark line under one of them and picked at it, wiping the flakes of dried blood off on the cushion.

She sighed. It was all Paul’s fault, him and his silly possessive behaviour. If he had just let it a rest, they could’ve had a nice holiday. But no, he had to make a thing of it, didn’t he? It wasn’t her fault she was an attractive woman and other men liked to compliment her. And it wasn’t as though she would’ve gone off with the guy either; his fat paunch was enough to put any woman off. It was the same on every trip.

They only had two days left and Elisabeth wondered how long it would be before the body was discovered. At least for the moment the ‘do not disturb’ sign was working.

She watched Paul come round the pool. He looked pale, his eyes darting all over the place.

“It’s still there.” He breathed as he lay back on the sun lounger next to her.

“I told you it would be.”

“How can you be so calm?”

“How will making a fuss help?” She adjusted the sunglasses on her nose.

“I managed to change the flights.”

“When to?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good, that’s give me enough time to get a pedicure.”

“Christ!” Paul hissed. “How can you think of that at a time like this?”

“Paul, it wasn’t me that caused this mess, you were the one that picked a fight with him!”

“He was asking for it.”

“You should learn to leave well alone, remember Portugal?”

Paul didn’t respond. She knew he wouldn’t. The police car had pulled up just as they were leaving the hotel. She wondered if they’d be so lucky this trip.  

343 Words

Daily Picspiration - Interdimensioning Part 7 - Home at Last

Wrapping up the serial for my Daily Picspiration was initially difficult. I wasn't sure how to make the leap, but then I focused on answering questions from the last episode, and it sort of fell into place. I used both pictures this week too. I've really enjoyed the surreal aspects of this series. I really enjoy that part of the writing. But I am looking forward to a few one off pieces for a while.

You can read 'InterDimensioning Part 7 - 'Home at last' here.

Cut and Run - MWBB

Last weeks Mid-Week Blues-Buster turned out to be the final one for a while, due to the low turnout. I have also not been that good at turning in a piece, but I have also had a turn judging - which I love to do. I enjoyed writing this story, and it earned me a 2nd place. I will be sad to see the end of this and hope Jeff Tsuruoka brings it back in the autumn.  

The prompt song this week was:

'Going South' by Stan Ridgway

Jim flicked his cigarette ash out the window of the Carrera 911. He loved the car, even though he was defiling it by smoking, but he didn’t care, it wasn’t his - or ever likely to be.

He loved doing this job, being out in the dead of night, driving empty roads from state to state. But of course he loved the wad of cash at the end more…although it never seemed to last.

He’d tried to put some by, but it never seemed to work. Trish blamed his love of fruit machines, but really the fault lay in his location; Vegas wasn’t a city you could save money in – especially when you liked to have a flutter now and then. Trish would say it was more now than then, but he didn’t hear her complaining when he splashed out on a big meal for them both.

As a breeze picked up across the Nevada desert, cooling the car interior, Jim thought about Trish. Did he really want to keep things going, or was it time for a fresh start? This job would pay enough for an inter-state move, and he could finally satisfy the hankering he’d had for the bright lights of LA. But was he too far in to cut and run? He didn’t think so. It wasn’t as though he was signed up to paying rent at her place. Still, a twinge of guilt crept in.

He sighed, that was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid when they’d started fooling around together. He didn’t want to get tied to anyone, and she’d professed the same, although he knew that was what women said. But she was totally into her job as a showgirl, and he wasn’t even sure she was faithful – there were many nights she hadn’t come home, although she’d insisted it was due to work.

He never made a fuss, what was the point? He didn’t care. As long as he was still getting plenty, what did it matter? He found it odd at the beginning when she’d refused to let him come and see her show, but now he considered it the norm. He understood the need to keep work and personal life separate. It wasn’t as though he told her much about what he got up to. He was sometimes away for days and she didn’t question it, or give him a hard time.

He sighed again. Thinking about it like that made him wonder if really did want to quit. He shook his head. He needed to follow his dream, and living in Vegas wasn’t it. Trish wasn’t it. They only really tolerated each other. He was going to cut and run, it was best for everyone. But first he had to get this car delivered. 

A road sign warned him he was approaching the Mexican border. He found a spot to pull over and check the car. He made sure the plates were fixed properly and there were no distinguishing marks. He spent more time that normal and put it down to his love of Carrera’s, but there was something niggling him, he just didn’t know what.

He set off again and the lights at the border control came into view. He pulled in, cool and calm. They asked him to step out as he knew they would – a car like this always drew attention. He remained collected, giving them all the false documents.

But then another car showed up, an unmarked one, and he felt his stomach begin to churn.

They walked him to a customs hut and left him there to greet the new arrivals. He went through the story in his mind, the one he always had as backup. Plead ignorance to stall an arrest,and play the victim of a car thief. He’d slithered out of this before, he could do it again.

Then the door opened and two plain-clothes police officers came in. One was a woman; he smelled her perfume as she passed. He liked it, it reminded him of Trish. Then she pulled up a chair in front of him and straddled it. It was Trish.

She smiled. “Hey Jim, fancy meeting you here?”

Five Sentence Fiction - Pages

Being a writer I couldn't miss this weeks Five Sentence Fiction photo and prompt word. I'm just managing to get it in before the new one comes out. I'm also going with a totally made up name. I hope it works.  Enjoy!

 

Feminy flicked through the pages of the book trying hard to remember what it was he’d said about where she should look, trying to visual him saying the words in her mind as he’d said them to her.

“Somewhere in the middle it’s there, hidden between the lines, several words in sequence reading vertically, and if you read them out loud it’ll manifest what you are looking for.”

She tried lying the book open on the table to see where the pages would fall, hoping it would turn to the right one automatically if the spine had been broken at right point due overuse of this particular cantation – but it didn’t; several pages remained upright and there was no definition.

Feminy sighed, knowing she would have to go with own her intuition instead, although she didn’t have complete faith in it. She took a deep breath and opened the book, planting a finger on the top line and reading out loud each word she found in the middle of every sentence, her flow only being broken by a smile as the world around her began to shimmer.

Zombie Apocalypse Flash Fiction Contest 2014

To promote the Kickstart project of an author friend of mine, J. Whitworth Hazzard, I have been asked to judge a Zombie Apolcalypse Flash Fiction Contest and I'm quite excited about it!

J. Whitworth Hazzard has set up a Kickstart project in order to publish the final episode and paperback compendium of the 5-star rated "Dead Sea Games" saga. I have read this saga and it is one of the fastest moving, on-the-edge-of-your-seat reads I have had in a long time. I can't wait for the fourth episode to come out - and I can't wait to get all four of them in print! You can buy the first three episodes of the saga on amazon.

The Flash Fiction contest is also to promote my newly published Personal Writing Critique website, which I have set up to offer a critiquing service. One of the prizes for the winner is a 20-page writing critique from myself.

The prompt for the contest is a setting:


 

The people are gone but the zombies remain. Somewhere in this concrete and steel jungle are a thousand stories of bravery, heartbreak, love, and adventure. What will yours be?

Your flash fiction piece MUST…

…be 500 words or less.

…be posted to your blog before July 27th at midnight, EST.
... (if you don't have a blog, we can post it for you)

…conform to reasonable standards of adult society (read between the lines, folks)

…include the promotional links highlighted below

…be set in New York City after the zombie apocalypse.

The setting is similar to the setting of Dead Sea Games, but don’t let that hem in your creative spirit. We want to read all of the great stories that I know can come from this great big melting pot of humanity—totally gone to hell-in-a-hand-basket. Your piece can be any genre, any universe, any characters (even mine!), any set of rules you like. Just be entertaining and make us feel.

For details of the prizes, and to add your entry, go and visit J. Whitworth Hazzards website.