Visual Dare - Precocious

My last Visual Dare was way back in mid-July, and despite my present writing difficulties the photo prompt for this one was too good to pass up. It was such a surreal photo, only such a tale could be written. Enjoy.

The mage said it couldn’t be done, but she would show him. She would take lama and goat with her, with baby lama in the truck – it was too far for his little legs. 

Emily didn’t care that she wasn’t suppose to, or that the ‘membrane was too tenuous’ – whatever that meant. All she needed was to believe, that’s what Nan said, so she was going; seeing mummy’s smile on the other side would be worth it.

She tucked herself up in her coat and pulled her hood up. She collected the animals together, their bright eyes watching closely as she settled baby lama in his blankie.

Emily strode to the gateway with confidence, refusing to be daunted by the stone archway in the mountain mists.

They all believed mummy was gone, but Emily knew she’d be waiting on the other side, as she stepped out onto the mythical bridge.

Daily Picspiration - Home

I haven't posted much recently due to being away on holiday, and also due to a neck hernia, which is causing excruciating nerve pain throughout my right shoulder and arm.

I am not sure I will be able to write much throughout this month or maybe the next, especially if an operation takes place, but I do hope to keep my Daily Picspiration pieces going.

I wrote this one quite quickly, which is why it's so short and sweet, although I had thought about the photo for some time. I had initially thought of something dark, but then when I noticed the guitar box a whole other story appeared, and that' what came in the end; one much lighter and full of hope.

Posted on August 31st, you can read 'Home' here.

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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?”