Friday, 30 July 2010

Writing Challenge Success

The flash fiction piece 'Fox-Curse' which I have posted here, won a writing challenge in the 'Imaginative Skulls' group on the Red Bubble online artists community! It's the first time my creative work has won any kind of award and I'm really flattered and delighted that I won :-)

Sunday, 18 July 2010

A Hair's Breadth (a nuance)

I am here, in the confines of my well-made suit. I follow the others: all dressed the same, wearing the same uniform that is our second skin. We arrive at the appointed time, we meet at the appointed time, we leave when we are ready. I watch the clock and its hands ever-ticking, I wait like an animal about to pounce on its prey. Now it is time to go.


I pass through the crowds like a ghost. We meet in a collision of souls. Our eyes are blinded by the artificial light, and our lungs are poisoned by the toxic air.

My environment is a superficial reality. The auspicious glass fronts of the buildings gleam like mirrors, but I cannot see beyond. You try to hold me, but ours is a chemical attraction. Why do we repel each other? Now others meet us on their path toward the light.

Fox-Curse (a nuance)

I am sipping the drink. A bitter taste… one last cup of sorrow. I sit before the woman of flame. I see an oval face floating in front of me, surrounded by a halo of hair. Hair that is as red as dry autumn leaves. Her green eyes stare accusingly at me, those terrible eyes that burn with witch-fire. Vengeance will be hers. My sight is blurred and I descend into darkness before I know what is happening.


I awake. I open my eyes, and yet I see nothing. I open my mouth, and I gasp for air. I take a long sharp, drawn-out breath. Instinctively, I push out my hands, and hit something solid. A barrier, that is above me and around me. I am constrained. I try to move my feet, but I cannot. I am pressed into a tight, unyielding space of darkness.

I am trapped. With the comprehension of my state comes demonic panic. I scream for help, but I am running out of oxygen. It does not help. Already I am breathing in sharp, shallow gulps. I desperately thump the solid matter above and scratch until my fingers are raw.

I am lost.