Another little piece of me.

I'm bowled over by the lovely comments that you are tweeting/messaging/sending me about my blog. It's a constant source of amazement to me that anyone wants to read what I write, and so a great big thank you from the deepest recesses of my very large heart for taking the time to ponder my musings and letting me know what you think.

This very short story is one that I wrote last May, after a tricky day at work. Hope you like. As ever, please tell me if you do. Or indeed, if you don't. I won't cry or sulk. Promise!



FOOTBALL SUN

Jack bit Sam's ear at school today. One minute they were fighting for space on the carpet, the next minute Sam's scream cut through the noise of the class getting ready for playtime. Jack was as shocked as Sam. He wanted to explain what had happened to Mrs Gates, but she was having none of it.

   'It was by an accident.'

   'How can Sam's ear accidentally end up in your mouth? I think we'd better go and see Mr Jones and you can tell him all about it.'

   Jack stood in the Headteacher's office and looked out of the window. He could see the bright yellow sun high in the blue sky. Freddie was kicking a ball against the outside wall and the thud, thud, thud sounded like the noise Daddy had made last night.

   'Open the f-ing door, Sandra. Let me in.'

   Daddy's voice had roared as loud as a monster as he tried to get into Mummy's bedroom. Then he'd begun a slow bang, bang, bang with his fists and feet on the bedroom door. Jack had gone as far under his Spiderman covers as he could without his toes sticking out at the end and started his magic counting game. If he could get to one thousand before Daddy found him, Mummy would be safe. He got as far as nine hundred and ninety nine before Daddy came. Thump, thump, thump.

   He looked again at the bright yellow sun and imagined kicking it as hard as he could between the white cloud goalposts.

   'I'm going to write a letter to your Mummy and Daddy, James. And you'll have to say sorry to Sam.'

   He was sorry. Sorry that Sam had told him that he smelled bad. Again. Sorry that the monster from last night had followed him to school and now roared loudly in his head. Sorry that he'd missed snack and break and that today was another day just like yesterday and tomorrow.

   'Sorry Sam' he said.

A small something..

A little piece of flash fiction today. After a three week writing hiatus, I am in the mood again, so must get stuck into the novel before I go off the boil.

This is an old piece, revamped and offered up for sacrifice. Hope someone likes it, just a teeny tiny bit. Please tell me if you do, as it will make me smile.

Sally’s Rainbow

Sally was a lonely little girl, so she dreamed herself a rainbow. It was the most beautiful rainbow anyone had ever seen. It had the bluest eyes and the reddest lips and it shimmered orange and yellow and green in the palm of her hand.

She loved her rainbow and carried it everywhere that she went, stroking it gently and whispering her secrets into its tiny ears. It grew bigger and more vibrant every day and glowed through her fingers, lighting her way.

The trouble was, everyone else loved her gentle rainbow too and wanted to touch it and hear it sing as they whispered all their hopes and fears into those wise ears.

Sally grew angry and jealous at all the love that her new friends poured into the rainbow and she decided that no-one should ever see it again. So she built a cage and coaxed the rainbow in with promises of gold. Then she draped a heavy cloth made from her darkest thoughts over the cage. She took a long wooden pole and hung the cage high up in the dense part of the wood where the leaves grew in a tangle of olive green and where no-one, not even the sunlight could go.

The rainbow was cold high up there in the trees and shivered at the lost the warmth of the sun. It grew sadder and sadder and wept a few dull tears. Then it slowly faded into the shadows until the wind came, lifted the cloth, and blew the sad little rainbow away.

Now Sally is lonely again and not even the sun or the wind are her friends.

Blog Baby

Don't do it! That's what the voice inside my head is saying. You'd think it'd know by now that I ALWAYS do it.

And so, just because my defiant side always truimphs over my shy side, I'll post a little bit of my writing on here. I'll try not to waffle on, and if I do please be reassured that I usually shut up sooner rather than later.

I wrote some poems as part of my MA that my tutor,Stephanie Norgate (Hidden River, Bloodaxe Books 2007), rather liked. You can blame her for encouraging me to think that I may have a tiny bit of something worth sharing.

Here are a couple of them. You have been warned!

SPILL

I will put a zip in the ocean,
stitch it to each shore
then pull it tight
and watch the cold teeth knit
in a metal bite
that bulges
as each molecule,
translucent,
magnificent,
binds to the next.

I will carry
my bag of blue
sloshing and heavy
in my hands
until I reach the edge
where I will pull it slowly,
slowly apart.

And watch
as, golden in the stream,
a few fat fish
a dolphin and a whale
belly-flop at first.
Flounder, gasping,
then ride the wake.
Flashes of scale and skin
on the page.
Released to space.


FIREBOAT

There's a boat
on top of the forest,
green and drifting
on the leaves.
We light a fire
in its belly
clasp hands
breathe
and watch
as it blazes
red with intense heat.

We break off branches
to fan the flames
that lick
the base of the sail.
Dip the tips into the glow
and dance to the whoosh
of white canvas
that flares high
enough to see.

Then we drop
panting to the ground
as charred linen and ash
rain down.

We're too exhausted
to notice
that we wear
the debris.