Until Tomorrow #FFC

Another flash fiction quickie.

In response to Fandango’s flash fiction challenge.

Will try keep these to no more than 200 words. Today the photo below was posted by Fandango as a prompt. Head over to see him, hes a thoroughtly decent chap.

After all of these years, she is still the beautiful girl I fell in love with. Though time has taken its inevitable toll, on both head and heart, there is still that same sparkle in her eyes which so ensnared me what is now a lifetime ago.

Lines paint a picture of a life well lived across her face, and even if now frail, everyone assembled in the room knows she remains a force of such joy and ferocious endeavour, and that she carries still more fervently a love quite fierce and unquenchable for those she calls friends or family, of which assembled now are as many as the days she has lived.

Tears hide that glint now though, and as I stretch out my hand to comfort her she turns slowly to where we spent those many nights, sat quietly, listening to the crackle and hiss of the ‘soundies’ she loved so dearly, and which she taught me to adore nearly as much as I adored her.

I hear my name across the hubbub of the busy room, and somewhere there is an open door as I feel the cold air of December blow through me. It will be Christmas soon. One more reason to celebrate, one more year to look back on. One more year with her.

Children’s voices drift in and out of earshot as I watch her, still light on her feet as she embraces old friends, her silver hair pulled in a tight bun on top of her head. I prefer it when she lets it hang loose, the way it cascades around her face and onto her shoulders, and oh the hours I have spent watching her in front of the mirror brushing it. She would laugh and tell me not to stare so much, but these were some of my happiest moments. Just us. Together.

I feel a tug, pulling me away. Probably one of the grand children I suspect. Cheeks red from the cold and hair tousled, eyes bright and filled with mischief. I allow myself to be led away, and the room becomes quiet. And then, in that moment, a sadness and an understanding descends up on me I look down and I am alone, there is no small hand in mine. I smile as I finger the ring that has sat on my finger these fifty years.

In the distant now I see her turn towards me, my favourite dress of pale blue contrasted against the dark backdrop of the room. She brushes the hair from her face and smiles as I mouth my last goodbye.

Flash Fiction – A toast to no more tomorrows

A bit more flash fiction…variation on a theme really…

In response to The Bag Lady’s Tuesday photo prompt, pic below.

I sought another pic from Pixabay to go with it as further inspiration..

And I made this. Mostly a stream of consciousness, no real editing, just some fun with an idea…:


The ‘click-fizz’ of the opening can caused Brian to stir from his nap. Excited neurons darting across the primary auditory pathways of his temporal lobe, back and forth in frenzied stimulation, a primal response triggered as he slept. His brain processed the inputs, considering past and potential future behaviour in relation to the ‘click-fizz’, the likelihood of a positive outcome to that input, the propensity for one ‘click-fizz’ to result in many more  ‘click fizzes’ and subsequently having a jolly good time being had by all. It then determined that an appropriate response to the stimulation would be to wake up and cause Brian to lick his lips.

“Yes please,” Brian said, reaching out an empty hand and sighing. His eyes opened slowly as his fingers clasped around the can he found placed into them.

“You seen that?” came a response.

Brian opened the can and straightened himself on the bench where he had been resting his eyes.

“Seen what, Carl?” Brian asked, opening the can, and taking a drink. It was not as cold as he would have liked but given the circumstances it would most certainly do. That is to say that given that when he went to sleep, he did not have any beer, and, now that he was awake he did, those were circumstances that now seemed decidedly in his favour.

“That,” said Carl, pointing into the sky.

It was hardly necessary for Carl to point given that directly in front of them, looming over the horizon, was something that was quite obviously the moon, but it stretched from one periphery of his vision to the other. Streams of reflected sunlight danced and swirled from the surface, and it had all of the appearance of a golden ball of flame.

“Well, that’s not mean to be there or look like that, is it.” Brian responded quite matter of fact, taking another drink. He paused for a moment, allowing himself to take in the full scene unfolding before him. Ten years on the streets and you think you’ve seen everything, but here he was, surprised once more. “Probably explains why everyone is running around rather panicked,” he added.

“You think?” said Carl, finishing his beer in one long slow gulp, and dropping the can on the grass beneath the park bench where they sat. He then opened a second.

“I’m no astrologist, but I’m pretty sure, yes. I imagine we ought to be panicking too.”

“You mean Astronomer.” Said Carl. “And yes, we could panic, I guess. But what would be the point.”

“Do I?” Brian asked.

“Yes. You mean astronomer. Not astrologist, that’s something completely different.”

Brian looked up into the sky again, then down to his beer, and then back into the sky.

“I expect you’re right on both points then,” Brian continued, “

He sat for a while and watched as a bride ran past them heading somewhere other than the direction that she was running from. She seemed quite determined, and she let her shoes and bouquet fall to the floor before disappearing behind two cars that had managed to have a quite inconvenient head on collision, smoke billowing from one as passengers staggered from both, pointing wildly at the sky.

“That’s a bit of a waste of good shoes,” said Brian, nodding to where they lay in the street.

“You think?” Carl replied taking another drink and opening a third can before he had finished his second. He motioned to the sky with a can in his hand, been spilling down his arm. “That thing’s getting bigger and bigger, so I doubt very much we will need very much of anything in a while.”

“Really?” said Brian as the wail of sirens echoed out across the city. “How much beer do you have?” he asked.

“Oh more than enough my friend,“ said Carl, offering his can to Brian as a toast, “more than enough.”

Photon – FOWC Prompt response

Just some random waffly bits in response to a prompt

In response to Fandango’s FOWC prompt “Quandary

If you had a telescope, a particularly powerful telescope, and you knew exactly where to look, and you were somewhat lucky and wholly tenacious, and you pointed it in the direction of the Horse Head nebula at just the right time on just the right day then, without doubt, you would still have absolutely no chance of seeing the SS Quandary.

And if you could not see the Quandary, you could most certainly not see her Captain as he stood proudly on her deck, legs akimbo and hands on his narrow hips. The Quandary shuddered and lurched, the auto-grav screaming against the deafening cacophony of sirens. Yet, resolute, he stared out from the bridge, watching as enemy fighters ripped gold and crimson slashes in the vast blackness of space.

He followed a photon torpedo as it tracked through the darkness in front of him, fast in pursuit of one of his combat drones.

“Funny old word ‘Photon,’ he said to himself, tightening the thick black belt around his waist and straightening his crisp white uniform trousers before pulling his jacket tight by the lapels.

“Photon, pho…ton, photon, photon, phooooo ton,” he said to no one in particular, the word bubbling around inside his mouth. He beckoned to a young ensign who was sat at a console to his right, punching away at something that was almost certainly futile and would not make one jot of difference when it came to their impending doom.

“Yes Captain Myers?” said the ensign, looking up from his screen, the pale light of the monitor splashed across his pallid skin.

“Photon, ” said the Captain, “funny old word isn’t it.”

The ensign shifted uncomfortably. It was obviously not a rhetorical question, and given the captain’s tone he assumed the answer was in the affirmative.

“Er, yes, yes it is,” the ensign replied, one eye on the captain, the other on his screen. It was mostly a sea of red and red was never a colour you wanted to see on anything when you were being attacked by an armada of ships that seemed intent on your destruction.

The captain chuckled to himself, silently mouthing the word over and over as he walked slowly forwards towards the vast window that stretched one side of the deck to the other.

The ensign settled back into his seat and returned to his screen. What little colour there was in his face drained as he watched a rather large something beep slowly as it tracked across his screen.

“Sir, ” he said nervously, “Sir, there is something you need to see.”

“Really?” replied Myers slowly as he watched fighter after fighter evaporate into a million glistening shards before his eyes. “Are you sure? It’s just that…”

“Yes sir,” interrupted the ensign. “you need to see it now sir, it is….”

“Oh, no need,” said Myers as he stiffened to attention, his eyes fixed on the thing that was winding it’s way through the drifting mass of debris towards them.

He half turned towards where the ensign sat, the ship shuddering once more and huge geysers of steam bursting from the floor as the lights flickered and dimmed.

“See, look there he said,” pointing out towards where the thing screamed towards them. “Photon…”

Exodus 0.4 – Dust

Just a thing I have been playing with…

I’ll carry on with this a bit. Not sure if anyone will read it but I like waffling on when I am in the mood…I’m still just trying to mostly find time and just keep writing something each day

Other parts are here, here and here


At about the same moment that Fisher changed her mind from wishing she had never been born to instead wishing that fate on the base Commander, an unfathomable distance away at the far side of the universe – and quite a bit beyond that – a Crenorian fleet dropped out of hyperspace. It then proceeded, methodically and without too much of a fuss, to demolish a quiet and unassuming small planet where just moments before the magical myriad of molecules and circumstance had collided in a ‘just so’ manner to create what would eventually have evolved into intelligent life.

It didn’t. Instead, along with everything else on the planet, it was turned to a collection of space dust and debris in the name of military preparedness.

“Now how about we collect the debris and hurl it into the nearest sun?” Pondered Fleet Marshall Jolt, a broad grin spread across his face from gill to gill. His scales flashed iridescent in the dim light of the bridge and a sharp red tongue flicked from his mouth licking his thin dark lips.

A junior officer shuffled uncomfortably and informed Jolt that it was a practical impossibility though they could spend a few hours firing ion torpedoes at the larger remaining pieces of planet if that took his fancy.

“And are there any living things out there?” Jolt asked, staring out into the inky darkness of space as he stood legs akimbo and hands on hips looking, in his opinion – and this being the only opinion that actually mattered – quite impressive indeed.

“D-d-doubtful sir” the junior officer replied. “Pretty certain the exercise put pay to anything that might have been alone though early scans indicated that the planet was quite lifeless.”

“Hmm, that’s a shame. Would have been nice to do a little hunting.”

The junior officer continued to shuffle his feet uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure that he would class a planet killer class Crenorian warship’s vaporisation of an entire planet as ‘hunting’. He was certain however that he was not going to correct the Fleet Marshall.

“Unfortunate indeed sir. Shall I stand down the armoury for the time being.”

Joltz signed and turned slowly. “Yes I suppose you better if there isn’t anything else worth blowing up. Are you absolutely certain?”

“Afraid so. I’ll stand them down sir shall I.”

“You should probably stand the armoury down then…what was your name again?”

“Drax Sir. Fenorious Drax”

“Oh there is absolutely no way I intend to remember that.” Joltz turned back towards the darkness outside of the ship. “I don’t even know why I asked. Anyway, stand down the armoury for me will you. Looks like there’s nothing else to blow up.”

“Yes sir straight away” said Drax saluting with his clenched fist across his chest and spinning on his heels as he hurried from the bridge.

And it was at this precise moment an unfathomable distance away and then some at the far side of the universe that Cole received, by an apparent incalculable chance, instructions to set his faster than light drives to coordinates that just moments before was the home to a planet that was suddenly no longer there thanks to Fleet Marshall Joltz.


That will probably be the end of that …for now. 🙂

Fluctuating Follies – Exodus 0.3

A continuation of a start of something perhaps…Just trying to get my juices flowing again

Michelle does a load of great prompts each month. I used to do a lot but less so now. Ill try get back into them I think. Theyre often just snippets of things and seldom more. This one is the glimmer of an idea I needed to get down on paper, using the prompts as ca bit of an idea spark – and like everything else I pretty much just share it whether done or not.

Part 1 of this is here

Part 2 is here


Admiral Kent stood legs akimbo, hands on hips as he cast his gaze over the bank of screens laid out before him.

“How do I look Fisher?” he asked turning slowly, his once chiselled physique now like too much sausage meat squashed into too little skin.

“Regal Sir” Fisher lied.

“Really? Are you sure?” He placed one hand on a nearby desk and leaned nonchalantly, turned his head as if to look wistfully into the distance. Perhaps at a herd of reindeer on a hill side. He did rather like reindeer. “You don’t think it would look better if I were a little more… relaxed?”

“No not at all sir” Fisher insisted clasping her clipboard tight. “I think you look very imposing sir.”

“Imposing you say?” Kent liked that. He smiled and assumed his previous pose, sucking in his stomach. “And what time will the artist be here?” He asked turning his head so that what he regarded as his good side got what little light there was from the copper wall sconces scattered around the room.

“He’s already here sir. You asked to see Cole first though.”

“I did, I did yes of course. And is my dress uniform ready? I do want to look my best for my portrait.”

“Yes sir, it’s in your quarters.” Said Fisher, her knuckles white as she gripped her clipboard even harder. The lengths she had gone to for her stripes and here she was baby sitting this deluded fool of a man on a pointless mining outpost.

“And the hat too? You haven’t forgotten that right?”

“Hat too sir. Yes.”

“Jolly good. Please send Cole in…”

Cole entered the room and brushed past Fisher. She bristled as he came near and glared at him, nostrils flared. Cole really had no idea why she hated him so much. That is not to say that he did not know why she hated him, he did. But how much she seemed to despise him did seem excessive. He did sometimes wonder if it was displaced passion or maybe an unrequited love kind of thing and all that pining for a lovers touch shenanigans. It could also have been the way he treated her back in flight school. Who knew really, it was one or the other. He never could tell with women, they were a curious thing to him.

Cole continued past Fisher, stopped in front of the Commander and saluted. “You asked to see me Commander Kent?”

The Com turned slowly from where he had been staring at nothing in particular at the other side of the room. It was something he liked to practice as he felt it gave off quite the impressive dramatic effect as he turned back slowly.

“Ah yes, Cole, thank you for coming” he said.

Cole waited. Kent said nothing.

Cole shuffled and looked around as Kent continued to say nothing, again practising his dramatic delivery. He was getting very good at it he thought to himself.

Cole continued to wait uncomfortably, wondering whether the Com had perhaps suffered a stroke. Or perhaps some sort of neural embolism. A newb pilot in his squadron during the Martian wars had suffered some sort of mental schism at the onset of a sortie to scout a Martian moon base, and when his autopilot brought him home the lights had been well and truly turned off and he was most definitely not home anymore.

“Good to see you Cole” Kent said, the dramatic pause apparently concluded. “How have you been?” Cole opened his mouth to speak but Kent didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re going to be heading a mission out beyond the mining belt.” He continued quite matter of fact.

“I see” said Cole surprised. “To where exactly Sir? There’s a whole lot of nothing out there. And some pretty ‘awful somethings’.”

Fisher’s customary scowl broke into something close to a smile. Just getting beyond the belt was dangerous enough given your proximity to Mars, and beyond that very few Earth ships went since the war.

“Well, that’s just the thing Cole, I don’t really know. Orders came through from High Command and that’s really all I know. They asked for you specifically, seems you have something of a reputation and they felt you were the right man for the job. Whatever the job is.”

“And what is the Job Sir?” Cole pressed.

“Absolutely no idea” Kent said, his voice trailing away as he turned slowly away to stare once more into the distance. “That’ll be all Cole, Fisher will give you more details. Departure set for tomorrow at zero eight hundred.”

Fisher grinned as Cole turned without saluting and heading slowly towards where she stood. Her small dark eyes seemed to dance in a way that Cole was certain her body certainly could not.

“Oh and Fisher” Said Kent as Cole reached the door.

“Yes Sir?” Said Fisher tucking her clipboard under her arm and drawing herself to attention.

“You will make sure you make that I have my hat before you go right?

“Go sir?” Fisher said quizzically.

“Yes, really do need it for the picture you know and they asked for you for the mission too so really don’t want you to forget it. I did mention that didn’t I?”

“No Sir, you didn’t” Fisher answered, the smile now disappeared from her face.

“Oh I am Sorry” Kent said. “Really should have mentioned it before now, my memory can be quite terrible at time. Anyway, good luck to both of you, and don’t forget the hat before you go.”


Here are a few others from way back




Soup sandwiches – Exodus 0.2

A continuation of a start of something perhaps…Just trying to get my juices flowing again

Michelle does a load of great prompts each month. I used to do a lot but less so now. Ill try get back into them I think. Theyre often just snippets of things and seldom more. This one is the glimmer of an idea I needed to get down on paper, using the prompts as ca bit of an idea spark – and like everything else I pretty much just share it whether done or not.

Part 1 of this is here


“Would you like refreshments sir?” Offered the Nutri-Bot as it hurried alongside Cole as he strode from the deck. It clicked and whirred in hopeful anticipation of a sale, the outline of a small serving hatch in the front of its white cylindrical body pulsing with an inviting blue light. “I am fully equipped to provide all the daily sustenance you require in a single…”

“No thank you” Said Cole, almost apologetically. Re-entry always left his stomach feeling rather uneasy and the nondescript beige the bots served up was the last thing he wanted. They were only machines but they did tend to take it personally when you declined.

“Are you sure Sir?” It asked again, a hint of desperation in it’s voice. “I have a quite delicious lobster bisque available today. Freshly prepared.”

“Is it beige?” Cole asked, knowing full well that it was. It was all beige. Always. This however was all the encouragement the machine required and it leapt into a detailed expose of both the nutritional and existential benefits of lobster bisque. As the bot continued to click-whir Cole quickly packed his flight suit into his rack and put on his orange service overalls. He pulled the belt tight about his waist and his black cap onto his head.

“No, really, I am fine. Thank you” he insisted as he headed for the exit to the hanger while the Nutri-Bot lurched into an explanation of the historical importance of lobster bisque in the pre-Martian war western culinary movement.

And then Cole stopped in his tracks abruptly . The Nutri-Bot ceased click-whirring and then fell silent also. Cole reconsidered his previous position and relegated the Nutri-Bot’s offer to second on his list of things he did not at all want. The last thing he wanted was stood directly in front of him, arms folded, and a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp.

“Hello Cole” snapped Fisher, a sneer creeping across her thin lips. Cole’s eyes were drawn to the stripes on her shoulder.

“Promoted I see” Said Cole.

“Cream rises to the top” said Fisher. She held out clip board in such a threateningly efficient way that it made Cole take a step backwards. “Com wants to see you now on the deck. Double time.”

Cole patted the Nutri-Bot on what was most likely it’s head as he passed through the hanger doors. “She looks hungry” he said smiling.


Here are a few others from way back




Only Resolve – Exodus 0.1

A start of something perhaps…Just trying to get my juices flowign again

Michelle does a load of great prompts each month. I used to do a lot but less so now. Ill try get back into them I think. Theyre often just snippets of things and seldom more. This one is the glimmer of an idea I needed to get down on paper an like everything else I pretty much just share it whether done or not.


Cole sat and stared into the blackness of space, his scout craft threading slowly between the twisted debris of the countless burnt out ships that orbited what remained of the Earth. The massive empty shells, once home to the last of the Earth’s forces, drifted silently, destroyed long ago in the endless wars now forgotten by all but those who clung to the stories of the past.

As a child, he remembered looking to the skies on warm summer evenings and recalled how, from the surface, there seemed to be so many stars, a vast swathe of pinpricks across the curtain of night, but up here, all he saw was the darkness.

The radio crakled into life. It was M. Unmistakably M.

“Hey Cole” she shouted, “you up there feeling all pensive and thinking abnout the darkness?”

Cole smiled and shook his head. She knew him too well. Not that he minded.

“I’ve picked up a deposit of Trilatium in a cruiser in quadrant six. I’m heading over there now.”

“So that’s a yes then” M replied, Cole could hear the smile in her voice.

“Affirmative” said Cole. He never quite knew what to say to her.

“Well you’ll be please to know Fisher wants all ships back Earth side asap so you can get your sweet arse back down here sharpish and stop contemplating the mysteries of the great abyss.”

“Copy that M, I’ll rendezvous with…”

“Sharpish Cole” M scolded, “no rendezvousing, no checking in, no gathering, assembling or fly-bying. Get yourself home now, there’s something going down and brass seem pretty shaken up. “

“Copy that” answered Cole adjusting his nav and tightening his harness. He wasn’t a big fan of re-entry, and these old scout ships has an unnerving ability to come to pieces if you pushed them too hard.

“Oh and Cole, pop by the canteen when you get back will you, you owe me a drink.”

“And why exactly is that?” Cole asked. He was pretty certain that he didn’t owe her anything at all.

M laughed. “God you’re a dense one aren’t you. You’re lucky you’re so damn pretty. Just do as I tell you Cole, I know what’s best for you. You trust me? Right?”

He steered the scout ship through the massive hull of a burnt out Martian destroyer, the blackened levels towering above him on both sides. Once home to thousands of Federation soldiers, now long dead, the place gave him the chills.

“See you Earth side M” Cole answered smiling. “Over and out.”


Here are a few others from way back




Room 101 – Out of Reach

It’s been far too long, and sometimes anything will do…

I used to do these – 101 words only. This might be a bit longer. This is also using one of M’s prompts.


Rosa clasped the stem of the rose tight in her palm, its sharp barbs digging into her skin. The pain made her feel alive and she squeezed tighter, not wanting to let go.

“Why are you so upset?” Carlo asked, the cold wind blowing through him as he watched the tears roll down her cheeks. “You know it will be okay. It always is.”

Rosa shook her head and sighed deeply, pulling her dark coat tight about her as the rain began to fall.

“You said you wouldn’t leave me.” she whispered to herself.

“But I came back” Carlo replied trying to catch her eye as she stared at the ground. “I said I would and I did right? I promised. I kept my promise Rosa.”

Rosa shook her head and began to turn, the wind catching her hair as it did and blowing it across the soft pale features of her face.

Carlo reached for her, desperate to touch her, to wipe her tears and make everything better, but she slipped through his fingers and before he could stop her she walked slowly away.

“Rosa wait” he shouted, he tried to move but felt paralysed. “I’m back now Rosa.” His words trailed off as they were strangled by the wind. And then, for the briefest moment Rosa stopped and began to turn, but shaking her head once more she walked slowly away into the rain. He looked down at his feet and there was the rose, its dark red petals in sharp contrast with the fresh, rich dirt.

Carlo opened his mouth to scream but it was too late, soil began to rain down and cover him as the grey skies opened and the service drew to an end…

Along The Weathered Winding Trail – Room 101

A start of somethign perhaps…

In response to M’s writing prompts which you can find at the link below.  These are often just quick pieces, ideas or glimpses of what might be…Fun to do though.  I used to try do them in 101 owrds but meh, it’s close enough…See the prompts here

The lights of the night beyond splashed across the hotel bedroom walls and painted his body in neon pinks and blues as he walked towards the window. Breathing deep he slid open the heavy glass panes and the noise of the city spilled in with the cold winter air. Shivering he lit a cigarette and watched below, the smell of her cheap perfume still on his skin and that god awful noise she made ringing in his ears.

Fighting against the wind Dennis folded the map and forced it angrily in to the side pocket of his pack.

“So, where now?” Cath asked taking a drink from her canteen and motioning towards the valley below them.  “Down there?  Seems the best route I think.”

Dennis took a deep breath and counted to five in his head as he watched the water glisten on her lips.  She licked them noisily and it made his stomach lurch uncomfortably.   

“No, we need to head up.” He pointed westwards to where the sun was beginning to arc towards the snow covered peaks.  “The pass is another couple of hundred feet up and a few hours beyond that we should be not too far from the cabin.”

“A couple of hours?  Jesus Dennis how are we so far off track?  I thought you said you knew how to read a map” 

Dennis snatched the canteen and took a drink. 

“Careful” Cath snapped back, “that’s got to last us until we can find water again and you know I get thirsty.”

He stared at her as he felt the water slip down his throat and down through his chest like a knife slicing slowly into him.  His heart was racing and he wondered if anyone would believe him if he said she’d slipped and fell into a ravine.

“Sorry, you’re right” he replied.  “I don’t know where we went wrong.  We need to get moving though as we need to be there before dark.”  He knew exactly where they had gone wrong, they had gone wrong when Cath had insisted on taking charge because he always got these things wrong apparently. 

Dennis hauled his pack onto his back and pulled the straps tight.  There was snow in the air and the temperature was dropping.  Probably too cold for her to die from hyperthermia if caught out he thought, far too early in the season.   Pity.

“This way then” he said setting off along the narrow track along the cliff top.  To their left tall pines climbed into the sky and far below he could hear the babble of water. 

“Maybe you should go down and get some water before we set off” Cath suggested shaking the bottle. 

“Maybe you should get mauled by a bear in the night because your sleeping bag has been filled with bacon” Dennis thought to himself before insisting that there was a waterfall on the map not far away and that they could hold out until then. 

“I’m really thirsty “ Cath replied taking another drink.  “Are you okay waiting until we get there?”

“Yes dear of course” Dennis replied, his fists curled into a ball wondering whether there were wolves in the area.

They walked quietly for a while, the beauty of their surroundings lost on Dennis as he stared at the ground counting the steps as he went.  This was supposed to be a trip to help fix things but just a day in and things were resuming their usual patterns of accusation and recrimination. 

“Gorgeous isn’t it” he said looking up and motioning to the white tipped mountains in the distance.  “The brochures really don’t do it justice.”

Cath didn’t respond and when Dennis turned around he saw that she had her ear buds in and was humming along to whatever she had playing.  It was probably Bach.  She liked Bach.  Bach made him feel stupid because he simply could not appreciate it like his wife and her university friends did. 

“Fuckin Bitch” he said aloud. 

God that felt good. 

She looked up, removing one of the buds from here ear.  “Did you say something?” She asked.

“No Dear” Dennis responded.  “Not long to go now though and we should be at the waterfall.”

“Ok” Cath said and went back to her music.

“I want to screw your sister” Dennis muttered under his breath smiling.    

Cath removed her earbuds again.  “Are you sure you didn’t say something?  You do have a habit of mumbling as you know.”

“Bears” thought Dennis.  Bear would probably eat all of her, even her fat arse.

“Up there look” Dennis said “the waterfall.”

The last hundred metres seemed to take forever as the path grew steeper and underfoot large rocks made the going difficult.  By the time they reached the summit they were both breathing heavily. 

“God look at that, isn’t it amazing” Dennis said.  Before him a river cut through the rocks and plunged downwards to the valley below.

“Yeah its lovely” Cath said handing him the canteen.  “Fill that up will you I want to take a photo.”

Dennis watched as she walked up to the edge of the bank where the river fell over the cliff edge.  Unfortunately it wasn’t particularly fast flowing so there was little chance that she would be washed away.

“Hey Dennis, come and take a photo with me” Cath called out.   

Dennis walked over reluctantly, his usual smile plastered across his face. 

“One for the scrap book” He said standing next to Cath, the heavily wooded valley stretching far into the distance. 

“Indeed it will be” Cath said as quite suddenly she pushed Dennis hard in the back and he stumbled forward twisting slowly as he plunged over the cliff top.

Looking up he saw her smiling down at him as he fell towards his death.

“Fucking bitch…”

The fizzled enchantment and other stories of ruin – Room 101

A start of somethign perhaps…

In response to M’s writing prompts which you can find at the link below.  These are often just quick pieces, ideas or glimpses of what might be…Fun to do though.  I used to try do them in 101 owrds but meh, it’s close enough…See the prompts here

The lights of the night beyond splashed across the hotel bedroom walls and painted his body in neon pinks and blues as he walked towards the window. Breathing deep he slid open the heavy glass panes and the noise of the city spilled in with the cold winter air. Shivering he lit a cigarette and watched below, the smell of her cheap perfume still on his skin and that god awful noise she made ringing in his ears.

Snow began to fall slowly as she emerged below and stepped out onto the street, already he could sense the life beating inside her, feeding hungrily. He hated himself almost as much as he hated them, but their soft pink bodies made great hosts…

Slingers – Part 1

I might give this a second part…

Part 0 can be found here

Dee sipped her tea from a mug and stared out of the window towards the old Victoria station.  The rain was falling, as was it’s tendency most days these days, and though it was the middle of the day the skies were dark and neon bathed the streets.

Once one of the destinations at the heart of London’s transport network, Victoria was now little more than a dirigible mooring station, the once endless stream of trains now a thing of the past and long replaced by the overland maglev’s than sprawled across the city and onwards to all corners of the country.

“You going to eat that?” Drax said motioning to Dee’s bacon sandwich.  It had been a long night bringing in Carlo and he was still rather peckish.

Dee shook her head as she watched the swarms of delivery drones buzz high above street level and disappear into the mists that covered the tops of the hab zones.

“I don’t like this Drax, not one bit.  It’s going to get us killed.”  She said watching the rain run down the window of the small café.

“Or” he said taking a large bite of the sandwich  “or it could make us rather rich Dee.”  

“It could make us rather dead more likely.”

“I will have you know that no one kills Drax the destroyer Dee, no one.”  Said Drax with a mouth full.

Dee rounded on him.  He was damn good at his job, and unnervingly lucky, but he was also incredibly annoying when it came to anything other that killing.

“Bloody hell must you persist with that ‘destroyer’ nonsense.  As if Drax isn’t stupid enough a name already, you really don’t need a nick name to compound it.  And stop talking with your mouth full.”

“Do you think I should buy a cape” Drax asked,ignoring everything Dee had said and finish off the sandwich.  “maybe something in crushed purple velvet?”

Dee sighed and looked back out of the window as a black taxi cab dropped down out of the mist and hovered just above the ground picking up a fare.  A think man in a dark coat scurried through the rain and jumped inside before it shot skywards again.  Turning back to Drax she took another sip of her tea.

“For one” and she raised a finger, “This is a recovery job.  Hardly our thing given that we are not required to kill anybody.”

Drax nodded and shrugged.

“I’m adaptable.”

“Two, we have no idea where she is and we need to somehow recover her from the Zentras.  Now the last time I checked they still controlled most of the north bank and are not to be messed with.  Why would you want to do this.”

Drax grinned and Dee knew this was not going to end well.

“Did I mention that we would will make a ton of money?  The sort of money that you need Dee.  Now what’s the worse that could happen?”

Dee knew that the worse that could happen was likely considerably worse that she could imagine.   The Zentras controlled everything from Battersea to the Black wall tunnel and were not to be taken lightly.  They ran every racquet imaginable and then some and they loved their bio-augmentations which made them particularly problematic when coupled with their maniacal obsession with such ridiculous notions as honour and family.

“I don’t like messing with the aug’s any more than you do Dee but there’s a kid out there that needs to be found and I might actually have a way to get us a bit of intel.  What do you say?”

For the briefest of moments Dee almost believed Drax’s sincerity.

“Exactly what intel might this be then?”

“My sister, she’s well in with…”  Drax never got to continue.

“Are you kidding me?” Dee exploded.  “After last time?  Drax why is she any less likely to try and kill you now than she was before?”

Drax smiled broadly and winked.  “She’s Zen now Dee,  Zen don’t kill family…”












Finish the story – #11

Been meaning to get to this forever. Sorry for my tardiness…

Welcome to Finish the Story

The Haunted Wordsmith started a story, tags someone to pick up the story and add to it, then hand it off to another person, etc., until the story is complete. This has proven to be quite fun in a blogging situation since we all have different approaches.


1 Copy the story below as it appears when you receive it (and the rules please)

2 Add somehow to the story in which ever style and length you choose

3 Tag only 1 person

4 If you choose to not participate or finish the story, please comment/tag this post so that The Haunted Wordsmith knows.

The Private Detective

One of the first lessons Eric learned the hard way after leaving the force and going into business for himself was to never ask the client why they wanted his services. The less he knew, the better it was for everyone. Something about this case, and the creepy man who hired him last week, just didn’t sit right though.

As he sat in the old blue Buick flipping through his notes, he saw her coming down the step of the opera house. He snuffed out his fifth camel and started the car. She was all dolled up in a victorian get up. Looked like something out of an H.G. Wells movie. Eric watched as she crossed the street, entered the park, and hailed a carriage.

“Shit!” He couldn’t follow her in the car through the park.

The carriage turned the corner and …

A Guy Called Bloke

… and disappeared from his view!

“Buggerations!” Eric snorted as he quickly got out of the car and hop, skipped and jumped his way across the street into the park. He could just see the end of the carriage as it made its way merrily across the lawn tracks!

As Eric chuffed along behind the carriage, he was becoming more and more startled as he saw smoke billowing from the top of the carriages’ roof, “What on earth?” Eric thought.

After only a few minutes, the carriage came to a standstill beside the fountain of Silver Waters, and she stepped out. Eric quickly hid behind a man selling balloons! He saw her talk to the driver, who doffed his hat and moved the carriage forwards by fifty or so feet before coming to a standstill again.

He watched Vicky [he had called her this because of the garb she had been wearing when he first caught sight of her. He didn’t know her name, Mr Creepy hadn’t passed on that nugget of information, so Vicky would have to do for the time being] walk up to the fountain, and as she approached from within her bulky skirts she withdrew a large bottle of something. The contents he could see were bright green almost luminous!?

“What on earth??” Eric gasped!

Vicky stopped in front of the fountain of Silver Waters and seemed to be speaking to the statue on the top, a funny looking gargoyle [l know, who would have thunk it?] and as she did so, the statue moved and so spake back in a kind of sing song accent and turned  and looked at the balloon seller – who was already becoming quite twitchy as he didn’t usually have another man quite this close to him when hiding!

Suddenly the balloon seller disappeared in a plume of green smoke with silvery tinges and Eric saw the balloons take flight to the skies!

“Blimey! That’s burst my bubble of disguise!” Eric thought, “Now what?”

Meanwhile Vicky and the gargoyle were looking directly at Eric and seemed to be speaking in the language of the elephant shrew [Eric knew this as his Son was studying the very same language in the elephant shrew school – l know how freaky as a coincidence is that?] As Eric tried to look as inconspicuous as possible which was somewhat difficult in his bright yellow zoot suit, Vicky and the gargoyle were speaking rather fast now and as they were doing so, the air around them cracked, and groaned, and creaked – yes creaked! The more Eric looked the more he could see wrinkles appearing before his eyes, the air seemed to be visible, the atmosphere was heavy, was that a portal opening, and was that another Vicky stepping out, was that another Vicky stepping out, was that another Vicky stepping out?

Eric closed his eyes for a moment thinking alternative reality and feeling somewhat faint and when he opened them again …

… he sat on his old Harley flipping through his ipad, he saw her coming down the step of the museum. He snuffed out his twenty second Marlboro and started the Harley. She was all dolled up in a Gothic get up. Looked like something out of an old, well Gothic movie. Eric watched as she crossed the street, entered the zoo, and hailed a camel.

“Chocolate Smarty Cake!” He couldn’t follow her on the bike through the zoo.

The camel turned the corner and Eric thought, Thunder Pants and then he ….

The Britchy One

…..started to feel very giddy. What was going on? He was uncoordinated, disorientated and sank slowly to his knees as he lost consciousness.

He woke with an IV in his arm Ina hospital bed. A nurse was busy with a chart and it took her a minute to realise he was awake.

“Welcome back! You had us all worried for a bit there!” She chirruped. “What happened?” asked Eric “I’ll see if the doctors here to see you” she replied, neatly avoiding his question as she sashayed out of the room. Eric noticed wryly that her scrubs fit in all the right places – obviously he wasn’t too out of it!

He looked around, bored. The room was a bland, beige, instantly forgettable room with a stunning view of a solid brick wall six feet away. If you weren’t sick before you would be after a couple of hours here he thought.

There was a peremptory knock on the door. Before Eric could respond and officious looking man in a bespoke suit walked in. His shoes looked expensive. Handmade burnished Italian leather glowing as only shoes polished by a valet could. His apparel and demeanour screamed upper class like the foghorn on a cross channel ferry.

“So you’re awake” he barked in a short staccato burst of verbal gunfire. “Do you know who you are?” “Yes of course I do”said Eric giving his full name “Why am I here and where are my clothes?”.

“All in good time my man, you were brought in without any identification two days ago. You were dehydrated and had concussion. Let’s get some details shall we? He proceeded to ask Eric’s full address, profession and if he knew what day of the week it was, what year it was and other questions Eric presumed were to assess his cognition. “What happened do you remember?” the man concluded.

Eric’s Mind was a blur. Full of bizarre dreams – or were they?

“I don’t really know” he admitted. “Do you know why you were in the park?” I was following someone on orders from a client.”

The man leaned forward quivering “Ahh and what do you know of this client? he purred.

Just as Eric was about to answer there was a knock at the door. A short tired looking Indian man shuffled in. “Hello I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Doctor Raina”

Wait! exclaimed Eric turning to look at the first man “If this is the doctor then who are you?”….

Mel Gutiér

Just at that moment, everything froze around Eric except for the elegant stranger who seemed familiar to him now. Eric’s mouth opened wide.

“I’m the Time Keeper. You have something of mine. Do you remember what it is? You’ve been jumping from time to time, wandering. It will take you some time, but you’ll remember.”

“What are you talking about? How are you doing all this?”

“Damn! You’ve gone in too deep. I tried explaining it to you. You didn’t give me enough time. You just had to run after her, didn’t you? They’re going to kill you if they find you, you know that?”

“Time Keeper?”

“Eric… you don’t remember the vault? You don’t remember the lock breaking and Lydia disappearing? You don’t remember taking the compass from my office? Eric… you’re in danger and I need the compass back to find Lydia.”

“Stop! You’re a mad man! You’re the devil!”

“You don’t even remember my name, do you?”

“Fuck you!”

Lost and confused, Eric got out of the bed, pushed the stranger aside running out of the room. He became dizzy as he tried walking passed the still figures in the hallway. Indeed, time had stopped somehow. Everyone in the hospital had stopped in their place, their space. The elegant stranger ran after Eric hopeful that he would wake up to full memory. He needed that compass.


“Leave me alone! I don’t know anything about a compass!”

“I can help you! Just stop for a moment! Let me help you!”

Eric ran outside and stopped in his tracks. He was stupefied. The air seemed to be missing and nothing was moving. Birds locked in midair, sound in a vacuum, a single leaf traveling to the ground was floating still before him. All living things stood motionless before him, as if wax figures stood in their place. Even the motionless buildings looked different, shifted somehow and he noticed a curtain in one of the houses stopped outside its window as if held out by an invisible string, the dead wind. How was this possible? Somewhere in his head a familiar connection began to emerge. He knew something about this magic, but it was still a blur.

“I’m Logan. I’m your Time Keeper. You’re a time traveler. We try to set things right in the world.”

The elegant stranger, a stranger no more, put his hand on Eric’s shoulder. Eric’s breath was heavy, and his mind was racing in the still of time. Something began to stir in him as he turned to look at Logan. His breath grew stronger and he broke down in tears.

“Lydia!” He gasped.

“Yes! You’re remembering! It’s okay… it takes time. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve traveled for months looking for her, chasing the wrong woman. I had to get you to stop somehow. This was the only way.”


“The institution, the visions. The client.”

“The client… he has your compass.”

“No! What did you do?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know. Oh God!”

“That was no client, Eric! Do you realize what they’re capable of doing with that compass! If they have Lydia, if they touch her… Eric! You have to remember where that client is. We have to get that compass back!”

Eric looked at Logan, took one last breath and disappeared. Logan fell to his knees as everything came back to normal. Movement… time resumed, but Eric was gone… again.


Michael @ Afterwards

Eric watched the tea lap against the edge of the mug as he dropped in another cube of sugar with a reassuring ‘plink’.  His mother had always said what when in doubt sit down and have some tea, preferably in a cup and saucer, and it will help to put things into perspective.

Unfortunately the diner didn’t have any saucers, or decent china cups for that matter, so he settled for a plain white mug of something approaching a loose description of tea and some silent introspection.

A large breasted, friendly faced waitress walked over and asked him if he was ready to order.  Eric shook his head.

“No thanks, just the tea will be fine thank you.”

“Suit yourself darlin, you let me know if you change your mind now'” she said with a wink and a smile and sauntered back over to the long counter that ran the length of the room.  He continued to watch as she took a pot of coffee and filled a cup for herself.

Returning to his thoughts Eric took a sip of his tea and considered recent events, not least how he had ended up in the diner, fully clothed and with a pocket full of cash.  As diners do it was a nice enough place, stereotypically so in fact with just the right amount of plaid shirted trucker looking types, chequer board flooring and a good selection of pies.

He searched his memories but could not remember how he had got here.  Staring out of the large window into the half full car park beyond he stirred the tea again, allowing fragments of memories to come back to him.  The spoon swirled through the hot dark liquid as mysterious strangers compelled him, gaping hospital gowns left him feeling rather exposed and the smoking of rather a lot of cigarettes left him feeling that perhaps some life changes might well be in order.

The memories were jumbled and overlapping, nothing seemed to be in the right place and everything seemed to contradict itself.  There was also a most uncomfortable feeling that he had lost something and really needed to find it.

He looked up as the waitress walked past again and smiled.  He smiled back and noticed her name badge.

‘Lydia’.  Nice name he thought…

Tagging: Dorinda @ Night Owl Poetry




The In-between – Part 33 of 31 – A possible beginning

The End

Just a little something,  I doubt I will take it further for now but I don’t like to keep things back…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part15 Part16 Part 17 Part18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part25 Part 26 Part27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32

Armitage smiled and sat back in the chair.  There was something quite homely about the place, with its high open fireplace and dark wooden bookshelves.  He fingered the leather of the tall wingback chair and finished his tea.

“He looks fun” he said motioning with his empty cup to a picture that hung above the fireplace.

An impressively moustached fellow stood defiantly legs akimbo in front of an erupting volcano.  Armitage placed the tea on the small low table in front of him.  There was something so familiar about the clink of the tea cup on the china saucer.

“So you say we’re part of ‘The Office of Entropy” he asked looking at the small grey haired woman sat next to him.  “And we’ve been here before?  If you ask me this all sounds a bit dangerous to be honest.  Are you sure about this because I am a renowned coward.”

The old lady laughed.  “Oh dear boy, we’re dead remember.  I think we can perhaps put to bed some of those worries.  All seems to make perfect sense if you think about it.”

Armitage threw her a most confused look.  “How the devil does any of this make sense?”

McCann offered more tea.  “Don’t let it worry you Armitage” she said as Armitage shook his head.  “Trust me, you’re a natural.  It will all come back to you.”

He let out an unconvinced “hmm” and sat back in the chair.

“So what happens now then?” he asked.  “Whilst I enjoy tea as much as the next man I would assume that there is more to this existence.”

McCann smiled.  “I have something to show you, come with me.”

Old Walter McDad

Really not sure where this came from…

You can listen instead of reading if you prefer.



Old Walter McDad finds such joy in the sad

The depressed and the rather quite tragic

He would dance with delight if your shoes were too tight

Spilled your tea on your crotch? Oh quite magic!

Caught your knob in your zip? Caused your foreskin to rip?

He would high five in great celebration

Birth defects?  He loves those.  Diabetic? Lost toes?

Well to him they’re such cause for elation


Enjoys watching the poor, mocks the sick and what’s more

Steals the cash from the tramps at the station.

Takes a dump on your lawn, tells your kids to watch porn

Big wide grin at your grandma’s cremation

Fingers crossed at the vets they declare that your pets

need to be put to sleep with much haste

Phone the docs and the answer is that you have cancer

He’d take joy, he knows its in poor taste


For Walt spends all his days in such terrible ways

Don’t ask why he just does ‘cos he can

At a hundred and one he’d still rodger your mum

He’s a rather quite nasty old man

So watch out and beware at the top of the stair

As he’d gladly push you in the back

You go head over tit and he’d chuckle and sit

Watch you bleed as he enjoys a snack


Beginnings – 5 – Unexpected Revelations

The tale of Darren and Julie

M does a marvellous set of prompts each month, today the prompt was Spontaneous Eruptions.  I am sure you aren’t surprised at what I came up with.  I recorded it too though so you can listen rather than actually reading it.  See how kind I am…I hope it works.



The tale of Darren and Julie


Once a chap said “I Do”, his wife said she’d be true

And in bliss they did spend all their days

In bed things were quite hot and they cared not a jot

For the flaws in their deeds and their ways


For they say love is blind but alas her behind

Grew quite plump and his ardour it waned

And he seemed now quite dull and there came then a lull

In the bedroom “Boring!” she complained


“Well your cooking is foul” he proclaimed with a scowl

She complained that his chores were undone

and with pinky quite crooked she complained how he looked

“You’re a cow” he did cry “like your mum”


There were slamming of doors, and so started the wars

And she went for a drink with his mate

So he signed up online had a jolly good time

Second base from an internet date


They fought over the cat she poked fun at his fat

Rotund tummy, he scoffed at her thighs

So she scratched up his car, he cut up her best bra

And on facebook he posted foul lies


So she slept with his dad and that made him quite mad

So she dry humped a tramp near some bins

Then he had a tattoo of her name and some poo

She jerked off a red head pair of twins


And at last it did end, for they just could not mend

The sweet love that was now oh so broke

And they went separate ways but that’s not how it stays

Even though its been weeks since they spoke


For one night on the booze he did text “I did lose

Something dear how I wish wed not split”

And she lonely and sad (and she quite missed his dad)

Said “I miss you come round in a bit”


Now they’re trying again and it might end the same

Or they could this time round find love true

Now he needs to just find a tattooist most kind

To remove what he inked near his bum…  



Beginnings – 4 – Spontaneous eruptions

The legend of Arty McFarty

M does a marvellous set of prompts each month, today the prompt was Spontaneous Eruptions.  I am sure you aren’t surprised at what I came up with.  I recorded it too though so you can listen rather than actually reading it.  See how kind I am…I hope it works.


The Legend of Arty McFarty


Once a fellow of some girth, a man of little joy or mirth

Who sad spent all his days self loathing and most glum

Teased by all and not respected and each night upset reflected

On his life which was quite empty and no fun


He had no wife and children none and friends alas were all now gone

And so he pondered his existence and felt small

And he came to the conclusion he was under the illusion

That he really ought to not be here at all


Quite intent to bring an end and without life or love or friend

At the cliff top he now stood, but lo a vision

It was the ghost of his dead mum and she insisted with his bum

He’d seek revenge on those who point with such derision


She spoke kinds words and reassured and from the cliff top he was lured

And she reminded him that he was in her heart

and he indeed possessed a gift and it so gave his heart a lift

when she proclaimed he had the world’s most fearsome fart


And so with deadly fierce eruption he blazed a trail of fowl destruction

Wreaking vengeance on all who had made him sad

At work he let off in a lift, three people had to miss a shift

it made a lass have fits and nearly killed one lad


His bottom spewed such fearsome gases that his neighbour now wears glasses

When into her letter box he let one out

He could hear her scream and stumble and she dropped her apple crumble

And threw up when out into the street ran out


He blew off down at the store and the milk curdled and then more

Or less the whole place had to be evacuated

At the pub he was oft goaded so near the fire he exploded

Watched it burn with joy, oh how these folk he hated


Farted then into a pram and in the face of an old man

then on a beggar who would oft be rather rude

And to a church he made a visit, left his own unholy spirit

and to a shelter where he dropped one on the food


And so he found his true life calling with his anus most appaling

Havoc he did wreak and eyes did stream

And all his days he spent unleashing anal thunder most unpleasing

Vile bottom burps most nasty and oh so obscene



Beginnings – 2 – Turning back Tuesday

Serena stared at the news headlines scrolling across her vid implant as she weaved her way through the mass of morning commuters. Grey skies stretched into the distance, the rain seemingly never ending, and pulling her hood over her head to keep off the rain she watched as the report showed the fall of Mombassa and the rout of the Central African Forces.

M does a marvellous set of prompts each month, and whilst I couldn’t face anything more than the nonsensical last month after my In-Between effort of May this month I am good to go again and am going to do a series of things that could be the beginning of something.  The prompts give me something to latch onto and to see what I can do with them and will be between 250 an d 500 words.  They may be the beginning of something they may not.  Sometimes I need to see it on paper to know how I feel about an idea and whether it will grow wings all of its own.

Today the prompt was Turning back Tuesday.  I am sure you can see why…


Serena stared at the news headlines scrolling across her vid implant as she weaved her way through the mass of morning commuters.  Grey skies stretched into the distance, the rain seemingly never ending, and pulling her hood over her head to keep off the rain she watched as the report showed the fall of Mombassa and the rout of the Central African Forces.

 “Hey watch yourself” barked a dark suited man as she nipped in front of him, clipping the briefcase he was carrying.

 “Sorry mate.”  She raised a hand by way and smiled to herself.  People could be such stiffs. 

 Stood waiting for the lights to change Serena changed channels to ‘K-Pop-100’.   Above, the buzz and whine of the faster vehicles darting through midtown filled the air, their neon undercarriages cutting through the gloom, while down at ground level the heavier transporters and trams rumbled through the puddles.

 A breaking newsflash interrupted Serena’s vid as the lights blinked green and momentarily distracted she stepped out into the road.  Before she could finish the headline she heard a scream and felt a hand on her shoulder and was dragged back onto the pavement as a heavy goods wagon thundered past inches from her face, the wind throwing back her hood.

“Oh my god” she started but as the words left her mouth everything froze. 

Everywhere fell silent, unmoving, people mid stride and cars suspended in the air. 

“Who the hell stopped her?” came a harsh voice from the crowd waiting to cross the road.  “This was carefully planned.  What threw it off?”

 “No idea sir” came a second voice, this one more timid than the first.  “Timings seem to be about a second out according to my readings.  I can rewind and recalibrate if you want.  We have enough time to do it over.”

 There was a pause as a tall blonde haired man pressed through the bodies in front of him and stood in front of Serena.  He wore a long dark coat over black trousers and shirt and his face was gaunt and pale.  He reached out a hand and caressed her face. 

 “Shall I do it sir?” The second man asked as he squeezed past the unmoving pedestrians, a glowing tablet device in his grip.  “We have about a minute to redo and resync the time line.”

 The taller man sighed and cracked his knuckles before turning quickly and disappearing back into the crowd.

 “Okay, rewind and redo,” he shouted, “and let Head Office know she’s incoming.”  He paused for a moment before continuing.  “And Po” he added menacingly.

 “Yes?” said Po as he punched at the screen of the device in his hand.

 “Don’t get it wrong.”

Beginnings – 1 – The Right of Wrongs

The pale lights lining the corridor flickered and dimmed as the ship descended slowly towards the planet surface. Je-Sar grimaced as the unfamiliar pull of gravity dragged on her, every movement suddenly a huge effort.

M does a marvellous set of prompts each month, and whilst I couldn’t face anything more than the nonsensical last month after my In-Between effort of May this month I am good to go again and am going to do a series of things that could be the beginning of something.  The prompts give me something to latch onto and to see what I can do with them and will be between 250 an d 500 words.  They may be the beginning of something they may not.  Sometimes I need to see it on paper to know how I feel about an idea and whether it will grow wings all of its own.

Today the prompt was The right of wrongs and it got me to thinking about right and wrong (obviously I hear you say) and the wrong of right and the rite of wrong and so on.   


The pale lights lining the corridor flickered and dimmed as the ship descended slowly towards the planet surface.  Je-Sar grimaced as the unfamiliar pull of gravity dragged on her, every movement suddenly a huge effort.  The black clad guards pulled at her arms to keep her on her feet, their heavy jackboots clanging on the metal plate flooring..

“On your feet” the taller of the two barked. “You’ll get used to it soon enough.  Now get in there.”  He punched a flashing green button in a panel and it turned red and a door slid open with a hiss.

The second soldier laughed, his eyes cruel and a hand on his rifle. “It’s time to go home” he said.  “We’ve looked after your kind long enough.”

Je-Sar fell through the door and turned to watch as it clanged closed behind her.  The pod was small, with her arms spread wide she could touch all four of the plain metal walls that stared back at her.  Save for a low metal bench along one side and a thick rimmed portal window there was nothing else inside.

She stared out through the small window as the planet below grew larger.  A vast arid landscape stretching as far as she could see.  It was A home she had never known. 

A world to which she was being returned because there was no longer room for her kind up there.

Slingers – Part 0

A something that might be a something or a nothing. We shall see.

Just something I was dabbling with…

With a broad grin spread across his face Drax slammed the blood stained hessian sack down on the counter top.

“Pay up Carlo” he said wringing his hands together.  “Five thousand credits I believe it was.”

Carlo was nearly as wide as he was tall and his round, sweaty and rather hairless head held the appearance of being connected directly to his shoulders.  Gold chains hung around where his neck ought to have been and his pink stubby fingers were adorned with a collection of heavy sovereign rings.  He looked up slowly from behind the counter and removed his holovid.

“That was just getting good, this better be worth it Drax.” He poked at the sack with a pen.  “Who is it?” 


“Really?  He seems to be a little smaller than I recall Drax.  Where’s the rest of him?”

“Hey, just cleaning house, making the streets a safer place and all that.” He leaned in towards Carlo, a serious look creeping across his face to replace his usual broad smile.   “He put up a bit of a fight so we only have the head” he said.  “Now I know you normally deduct sixty percent for an incomplete but I can explain what happened to the rest of him.”

“I really don’t care Drax, You slingers know the rules.”

“Carlo, would I lie to you?  You know me I’m straight up I swear It was unrecoverable, surely you can make an allowance.  I can even show you the vid footage.  Let me transfer it over, come on.” 

Carlo heaved himself from his chair breathing heavily.  “Is Dee with you?” he asked peering over the counter top.

Dee looked out from behind Drax. 

“Hey Carlo, good to see you.”

 Carlo grinned wiping his mouth with his hand.  “Dee, you’re looking as lovely as ever, what you still doing with this loser?  You can do better you know – my cousin Luca is on the lookout for a new partner, you and him would be great together.”

Dee tucked her long red hair behind her ears and pushed past Drax smiling.  “It’s my curse honey, we all have our burden’s to bare right.”

Carlo peered inside the bag and then closed it up again.  “We do indeed and yours is not only your beauty but this useless excuse for a partner.”

Dee laughed and placed her hands on the counter top and leaned forward to give Carlo just enough of a peek down her top.

“So are you going to give us a break this time?”  She flashed him a smile.  “It was my fault we lost the body but this is no scam.  There’s no way it survived the things that call the Thames home these days.  It’s gone.”

Carlo licked his lips and mopped his brow. 

“If anyone finds it they’ll have my license you know that right?  There’s a reason you’re meant to bring the whole body in Dee.”  He shot a disapproving glance at Drax.  “We really don’t want the man on the street knowling what’s out there.”

 “Trust me okay.  We’re good.” She said and put a hand on his arm.  Men were such fools.

Carlo sighed, took the bag from the desk and placed it on the floor next to him. 

“I’ll give you four and a half.”  

Dee smiled.  Four and a half wasn’t bad for just a head.

“And the other Five hundred?” Drax asked knowing full well that it would end up in Carlo’s pocket.

Carlo ignored Drax and slipped Dee a red credit card sized token.  “Four and a half Dee, spend it wisely.”

“You’re a gem” she said and winked as she slipped the card into the inside pocket of her jacket.

“So do you have anything else for us?  I could use a decent payday?”






I’m going to keep doing these as the mood takes me and they’re kind of snippets or starts or ideas and mostly just done to see how they feel when I press ‘publish’.  I think one will stick then I will carry on with it.

Avalon sat on the old porch swing kicking her legs playfully and singing to her favourite doll.   The night air fell cool on her skin and as the swing creaked in time with the song of the crickets she watched the sun set slowly behind the mountains.

“Bed soon Avalon” shouted her mother from inside.  “We have a long trip tomorrow and need to be on the road to Picayune before seven.”

“Yes mom” said Avalon as the last rays of light sank below the towering peaks and the feint ribbon of fire on the horizon gave way to darkness.  “Can I have just five minutes more, I want to watch the stars with Ophelia?”

“Okay sure” her mother replied over the clink of the dinner dishes “but no longer.  I don’t want you to be tired when we see grandma.”

Avalon squeezed her doll tight and pointed out across the dark fields into the moonless sky, the silhouette of the barns and water tower now barely visible as night fell.  “Ophelia, that’s Sirius, the brightest star in the sky” she said knowledgably.

The family farm was huge, and with barely a light to be seen for miles the milky way blazed a trail across the night sky.  Avalon loved nothing more than to sit out, and though she was only nine already knew most of the major constellations by sight.  

“Look there” Avalon said excitedly pointing to the west just above the tops of the mountains.  A meteor blazed and then fizzled to nothing in the atmosphere.  “There will be more if mother let’s us stay up.”

She kicked her legs and pushed off on the swing, the squeaking quickening.  Another meteor burnt up on the horizon and her mother called again.

“Come on now you two, time to come and get ready for bed”  she said popping her head around the screen door.  Avalon considered asking to stay up later but the look on her mother’s face already told her it wasn’t going to happen.

“Yes Mom, coming” she said hopping down,  and with Ophelia hanging by the arm she skipped across the porch singing quietly under her breath.  On the other side of the door she could see her mother wiping dishes in the kitchen, but before she could get inside there was a flash of light as bright as day and a loud bang filled the air.

Avalon instinctively fell to the floor clasping Ophelia tight and tried to cover her ears to block out the noise.  She heard her mother shouting from inside the house and hurried footsteps on the wooden floors but everything was shaking, and unable to move she stayed curled up in a ball in front of the door.

“Honey, move, I can’t open the door” she heard her mother shout over the sound of breaking glass.   Heart pounding she peered through her fingers as the bang was replaced with a roar that sounded like a thousand waterfalls crashing down together and a bright green light lit up the yard in front of the house.

Her mother screamed and Avalon felt the door dig into her side as her mother forced it open.  “Avalon, come on” her mother shouted lifting her from the floor and into her arms.

“Wait, Ophelia…” she said panicked reaching for the doll that had fallen from her grasp, but her mother was already running across the porch with her.

“No, there’s no time” she said as she took the steps two at a time and stumbled out onto the wide grassed area in front of the house “we need to get to the car now.”

The car was at the other side of the house, and she regained her feet she set off across the lawn.  The noise grew louder with every step and the light began to pulse and flicker obscuring everything and making it difficult to make out the way.  She felt her mother’s hand pull her head tight to her chest as a violent wind whipped up dust all around them until there was no way they could see which way was forward.

“Take my hand” she shouted putting her down on the ground.

The wind rocked her and unable to see anything but the dust and bright green light she fell to the floor.  “Mom I’m scared” she cried as her mother reached out a hand to try and locate the house to get her bearings.  

“This way” she shouted and dragged her by the hand through the swirling dust and wind.  Avalon covered her eyes as they ran and there was a familiar crunch of the gravelled drive underfoot and as she stumbled again she felt the cold metal of the truck against her shoulder.  “Quick, get in” he mother said and there was a click-thunk as her mother forced the truck door open against the wind as it grew in intensity.

Avalon scrambled into the footwell and turned to watch her mother clamber in but as she reached inside there was a roar as the wind pulled her from the vehicle and screaming she was thrown beyond Avalon’s view and the vehicle door slammed closed.

“Mom” she screamed as she pulled the handle and pushed against the door –  but the wind was now too fierce and it slammed back each time she attempted to open it.  She pressed her hands against the glass and stared out into the night desperate to see the shape of her mother heading back to her, but there was only the bright green light and the swirling dust carried on the wind that buffeted the truck.

Staring out into the night she waited, tears cutting through the dust that covered her from head to toe.  She brushed her hair from her face as the roar of the wind grew louder and louder and the light brighter until quite suddenly, without warning,  it stopped.  Darkness returned and as the dust slowly began to settle she saw a shape walking towards her through.

“Mom” she shouted pulling at the door handle and pushing against it with everything she had.  This time it gave way and she scrambled down, the gravel crunching beneath her feet.  “Mom, mom over here” she continued and ran arms flung wide as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.

“Hello Avalon” came an unfamiliar voice and she stopped in her tracks.  It was deep and rasping and as the dust cleared, her heart racing, she stared at the shadow as it emerged from the settling dust.  It was like nothing she had ever seen, taller than any adult – dressed all in grey – and skin grey like that of a shark.  It was vaguely human in appearance with large eyes set wide in a broad head.   There was no nose, only small nostrils and a wide lipless mouth stretched across the face.

Avalon tried to scream, tried to run, but her legs would not move and nothing came out when she opened her mouth.

“Come now” the creature said scooping her up in his arms, “there are people waiting to see you.”





#FOWC – Inertia

Fandango has kindly provided the prompt: “Inertia”.

Going to try do these in 500 words or less I think and use them to try a few new ideas and see if anything sticks.  A bit like the room 101 stuff  – they may be starts, or ends or middles.  We shall see.


Gill clled to McCabe as he stood staring out into the inky blackness of space.  “Captain, sub light inertia drives have gone off line due to a massive solar burst.  Switching to impulse.  We will breach real time barrier in 60 seconds.”

The deck shook as McCabe walked over to his chair and buckled in.  After 6 years they were so close to being home, this was the last thing they needed.  He punched the comms button on the arm of his chair and a siren blared out across the ship.

“All crew brace for real time barrier breach in 30 seconds.”  He looked back at Gill.  “Bring us out gently son.”

The Aspidistra lurched as she slowed, every atom of the ship and those within her stretched across the immeasurable expanses between the stars that powered the ship.  McCabe held his hand up to his face and watched it dissolve into a million stars before his eyes and then reform as they smashed through into real time.

“System status ” he barked, the massive ship still shaking.

Jennan the second office scanned the battery of screens before him.  “All systems online Sir, real time confirmed – Sol cycle 2245.”

“Gill, location please.”

McCabe waited before asking again.

“Gill, please confirm location.”

Gill turned slowly.  “Captain – we’re about three weeks out from Earth on impulse drives sir, just short of Mars orbit.”

The look on his face told him there was more.  He unbuckled his belt and strode over to where Gill sat behind a bank of screens.

“Spit it out lad what is it.” He said trying to interpret the data flooding across the displays in front of him.”

Gill knew that if not for McCabe none of them would be here, they all knew that.  The war with the Va-a had taken it’s toll but he’d promised to bring them home and he was a man of his word.

“I’m sorry sir” he said “but were too late.  She’s already gone.”









A Sprinkle of Balderdash

M has another month of fab prompts that you can see here

Today it is A sprinkle of Balderdash.

For those of you who might have seen my blog in the last month you will have seen that I wrote a 30000 word story, day by day using M’s prompts. Given that my preferred medium of expression is the glorious 5 lines of a limerick, and the longest post I have ever done was about 500 words, I am not sure where the confidence came from but there you go.

Mostly it started out as waffle and balderdash but as the month went on I really rather enjoyed it and whilst it is not quite the 50000 words NANOWRIMO might ask of you it’s a start, so I thought I would share a few thoughts on the experience.

  • It was so important to make sure I wrote every day. I got behind after a weekend of enjoying the royal wedding and it was so hard to catch up so should I do it again I would ensure that time is put aside at all costs.
  • I discovered afterwards that there are two types of writers. Those that plan and the ‘pantsers’. ‘Pantsers’ are apparently people who make fly by the seat of their pants and plan very little. I think I lean more towards being a ‘pantser’.
  • Encouragement really matters. Those wonderful people amongst you who took time to read and comment, M for just doing the prompts, Dronsta who really helped with advice or people on Twitter who posted things on their own timelines which I found encouraging – it all really motivated me when I was struggling.
  • Editing can come later, this was pretty much a public first draft but getting the draft down became such a motivator. I can now revisit and do whatever I want with it but it is mine to play with at my leisure.
  • I had only ever written short flash fiction pieces before and the idea of writing 1000 words was massive daunting for me but day by day, line by line, I found that the stamina built pretty quickly and by the end I could churn out an unedited 2500 words in about an hour and a half.
  • When I completed it I wished I was a dog because It was such a thrill that I would happily have licked my own bollocks, and not just for hygiene reasons I tell you.
  • For a few days afterwards I have found it really hard to write. Oddly I found myself going through quite a few emotions having put so much into something over a short period. At times I felt stupid for doing it, others proud, and I really missed it which made doing anything else feel pointless. I did a bit of reading and this is apparently normal it seems.

So, if you’re wondering whether you can do it, absolutely you can just put some time aside, find people to support you and write, write, write…

The In-between – Part 32 of 31 – THE END

The End

What? I don’t like rules. Plus its only a short one. That’s it. Job done. 🙂

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part15 Part16 Part 17 Part18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part25 Part 26 Part27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31

“You don’t want to be going over there” came a voice out of nowhere. “It won’t end well.”

It was the first noise I had heard since I awoke in this place and I spun around, desperately searching for it’s source. There was no up and no down and for as far as I could see a grey nothing stretched before me in every direction.

She was a pretty girl with dark hair dressed in a flowing white dress with a blue butterfly clip in her hair.

“My name’s McCann” she said extending a hand to me and smiling. “You need to come with me Armitage.”

The name sounded familiar.

“Is that my name” I asked.

“It is yes” McCann answered as she took my hand. “And this is Margaret” she said as a warm faced grey haired woman stepped out from behind her.

“She is new here too, I think you two are going to get along quite famously.”


The In-between – Part 31 of 31

I awoke lying on the grass soaked to the skin and the rain falling on my face.  Eyes opening slowly I stared up into a starless night sky and on the horizon lightning crackled and fizzed lighting up the clouds.  

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Anchored Avenues’.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part15 Part16 Part 17 Part18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part25 Part 26 Part27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

I awoke lying on the grass soaked to the skin and the rain falling on my face. Eyes opening I stared up into a starless night sky and on the horizon lightning crackled and fizzed lighting up the clouds. As I sat up I could feel the low far off rumble of thunder in my bones.

With my thoughts a blur I scrambled at the edges of vague images, confusion slowly clearing and giving birth to thoughts of Plumduff and Thrumhall, O’Rourke and the face that always haunted my thoughts at times like these.
I dragged myself to my feet, rain running down my face and the cold night air clawing at my throat. Instinctively I reached for my shoulder, but there was no pain, no blood stained shirt, no bullet wound.

Unsure and confused I looked about, struggling to make out anything familiar in the darkness. Though the wind blew the rain into my face I could just make out that I was stood in a wide grassed area, perhaps a park, with the dark silhouettes of tall buildings behind me and the outline of trees to the sides and ahead. Beyond the trees there was a pale light, barely visible, and being the only real point of reference I headed towards it.

Wearily I walked, my legs heavy and my mind attempting to make sense of what had happened. I checked my hand and could feel the ring tight around my finger but there was no grey periphery. I could see everything. My watch and wallet were still missing but once again I had the jacket I had not had since the hanger.

Pushing through the trees, the crunch of fallen twigs and leaves beneath my feet, I could hear the feint crash of waves and as the rain began to lessen I came out at the side of a road. To the far side of the rode a fence cordoned a short run off to where what must have been a cliff edge because I cold hear only hear the waves and into the distance what little light there was danced across the water. A solitary streetlight lit the area in front of me and the rain glittered as it fell.

I fought the urge to call out to Quora again, intent for once to deal with whatever lay before me and looked along the road. To the right it stretched into darkness, the white lines fading to black and to the left I could make out the arched supports of a bridge someway off..

Instinct told me to head to the bridge and as I set off, the sky lit up as lightning arced across the night sky and once more and the thunder rumbled ever closer.

“I could do with some advice right about now Plumduff ” I said to myself. Even O’Rourke’s unique approach would have been welcomed and wandering through the unlit stretch of road I tried to understand why Quora had sent me here. I knew now that Thrumhall had caused key events of Plumduff’s life never to take place, and assumed that using the device he had done something similar to Crompton but here and now, this felt like oddly familiar.

I pulled the collar of my jacket around my ears and pushed on against the wind which was now blowing straight at me. With my vision obscured by both the darkness and the rain in my face the bridge drew closer and, some way off to one side, I could just make out the glowing tip of a cigarette.

Hurrying my pace I veered to the near side of the bridge, the sounds of the waves growing louder. It was hard to make much out in the darkness but the burning ember briefly sparked into life again and I could make out the face of a woman. It was the woman I had seen in my mind so often.

She jumped as I said hello. “Please just leave me alone” she said.

“Oh sorry, It’s just that I’m kind of lost.”

She drew deep on the cigarette and exhaled, the wind catching the smoke and whipping it upwards.

“You not got a car or anything?” she asked.

“No, like I said I don’t really know where I am.”

She nodded in the direction to our left. “Keep going that way you’ll find a pub about a mile up the road. The Goat and Hound.”

I paused staring at her face in the dark. “Do I know you?” I asked.

“I don’t know, do you? You from around here?”

“Maybe, I think so yeah.”

“Well what is it, do you or don’t you?” She took a final drag of the cigarette and flicked the stub out into the darkness.

“It’s hard to explain, I just…”

“The Goat and hound” she said again pointing up the road. “Won’t take you long.”

She took another cigarette from the packet and put it into her mouth.

“What ” she said staring back at me.

Every part of me said to not go but I did exactly what I knew not to.

“A mile you say? That way?” I said pointing up the road.

“Yeah” she replied and shielding the flame of the lighter from the wind she lit the cigarette.

“Okay thanks” I replied and slowly walked past her. “What’s your name by the way, I’m Armitage.”

“Isobel” she answered without looking up.

I paused, desperate to keep talking to her but she turned her back towards me away from the driving rain and out to sea.

The rain was now getting heavier and I made my way across the bridge, the lightning crackling overhead and the whole area lit up like daylight. I flinched at the sound of the thunder as it followed almost immediately after and out of the corner of my eye I made out a familiar shape in the dark.

“Hello Armitage” said Thrumhall, his voice as unmistakable as his form. He walked over from a knot of trees at the end of the bridge, a broad smile across his face.

I wanted to run but the only way was back towards her and something inside of me told me that I needed to keep him away from her at all costs.

“No need to run Boy” he continued, “it’ll all be over soon don’t you worry.”

“You know Thrumhall, you really are …” I paused struggling for the right words.


“You’re worse than that.”

“Careful now boy you’ll have me thinking you’re trying to get into my good books.”

I wanted to run, to fight, to warn Isobel but I just stood silent.

“Why did she let you through” I said, “Why didn’t she just leave you there?”

“What are you talking about. You mean the girl?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“Quora. The tree. Why did she send you through with me.”

“I think you must have taken a knock to the head because you lead me here. And grateful I am too because it was next on my list of places to see.”

The night lit up again and he noticed me looking at he damage to his face that O’Rourke had done.

“Handy fellow your Cardinal” he said licking a deep cut in his lip. “Went down like a true warrior.”

He saw me ball my fists and laughed. “Come on boy, you’ve had your fun but it’s time to give me back my device and we can get this over with.”

He reached out and grabbed my jacket, pulling me towards himself and rummaging through my pockets.

“Where is it, what did you do with it? And where are the Shadows? I need to get that portal open.”

My face told him before my words did that I didn’t have it and a look of anger spread across his face. He pulled out his pistol and pointed it to my head.

“I’m only going to ask you once meat sack.”

“I don’t have it, Quora sent…”

“Quora, I don’t know any Quora Armitage. Now give me my device.”

I shook my head defiantly. I couldn’t give him what I didn’t have but if I kept him busy for long enough maybe Isobel would somehow get away.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do shall we?” he said. The question was obviously rhetorical though and he brought the pistol down heavily across the side of my face. I could taste blood in my mouth and my legs turned to jelly. I would have fallen to the ground had he not be holding me up.

“Shut it” he barked slipping the pistol back into its holster as I mumbled something obscene about his mother hoping to distract him. It was to no avail though and ignoring my insults about the circumstances of his birth he began to drag me back across the bridge towards Isobel.

Her back was still to us, and with the rain hammering down and the flash and crash of the thunder and lightning she did not hear us approach. I struggled, my head spinning, but I was too weak and before I could stop him he reached out and wrapped an arm around her neck pulling her into his chest.

Isobel tried to scream, but his arm was cutting off her air and with nails clawing at his arm and legs dangling he lifted her from the floor.

“You still don’t get it do you” he said. “And I though you Entropy boys were meant to be bright.”

“”Let her go” I begged. “Please, she doesn’t deserve this she hasn’t done anything wrong.”

He threw me to the side and wrapped all of his arms around her.

“Armitage, if she dies you don’t get to save her and if you don’t save her you don’t get that shiny badge. ”

“But why not just kill me?”

He laughed and walked over to the guard rail. Isobel struggled against him but she was too weak to resist him. “You can’t really kill what’s already dead boy.”

As he lifted her up above the rail, her legs thrashing, I summonsed every last bit of strength I had and lunged forward for his pistol, pulling it out of the holster that hung at his side. He spun to try and kick me away but it was too late and as I scrambled to my feet I pointed it at him.

Lightning cracked overhead, and I could that Isobel’s eyes were closed and she her kicking had almost slowed.

“Let her go Thrumhall, it’s over.”

“Over? It isn’t over boy. Not until I say so.” Once more he dangled her over the rail and laughed. “What you going to do now then?”

I walked forward purposefully, fearful and desperate despite the weapon I held in my hand. “Either let her go or I finish you right now. We all go down together.” The words seemed unfamiliar coming from my mouth and Thrumhall could tell I was afraid.

“I don’t think so” he said and steadying himself on one of the heavy steel supports stepped up onto the guard rail still holding her. “This really how you want it to pan out Armitage?”

Desperate I held out the pistol and placed it on the floor in front of me. “Okay, you win” I said my hand shaking. “Take it.”

He grinned and jumped down from the rail and kicked the pistol away from me to where he stood.

“You know what Boy” he said, his eyes now wide and a grimace on his face.

“What” I said. Not that I cared what he had to say.

“You should have pulled the trigger when you had the chance.” and with that he dropped Isobel’s limp body over the side and into darkness.


Part 32