Tag: creative writing
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Ghost Hunting
Hattie almost missed the fraying brown clue blending into the brickwork. Almost. Matt would never let anyone miss it completely. “It’s a clue!” He howled as he dropped to his belly and slithered towards the string. “Hattie. Hattie. Look. They were here.” “I don’t see anything Matt.” He groaned and lifted the string between clenched…
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Glitch
This is a piece of a draft … but I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve really been able to come up with anything. It started with the email screen. “What … What do you … Do you want?” It spluttered through stalled clicks and flashing screens. It’s happening again. Without another word…
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Friday Fictioneers – Counting Lighters
This here’s a true story. The moment I realized what rock bottom looked like as I barreled from above. And tried to hit the brakes but just wasn’t strong enough. I wasted drunken moments counting lighters scattered around, at least ten collected in my dead flower jar. Then the music stopped and that moment of…
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Friday Fictioneers – At Last
Fat raindrops rolled down the window pane accompanied by the ever present haze of city living. Ghosts of years gone by stood silently silhouetted against a dark, starless sky. Lights from the spire sprinkled to life in a dazzling glaze. A gasp caught in her throat. The sign she had been waiting for. Her Prince…
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Smudged Charcoal Memories
Stream of Consciousness Writing Attempt – Wordpress Daily Prompt – Candid Music: Alberto Giurioli – once again I’ve found myself just shuffling on Spotify, no specific songs or albums Candid. I have photos in my mind, candid pictures, frozen in time. Of you, me, the world as it wishes it could be … the way it…
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Threads of Gold
I want to lie between the lines. To feel the words moving and sinking, Gnashing and gnawing at the chains binding them so. I want to sink into the crevices between the melodies, The breaths between the chords. To feel the rhythms beating and crashing, Tearing and thrashing at the ropes holding them down. I…
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Numbered Days 4/365
My heart could be filled But truth be told … My days are numbered here. This disease is terminal. The doctors don’t know what to do. “Well,” he says as he raps spindly hands “You can’t stay forever in the land of the damned.” Indeed Father Time. It appears I’ve been diagnosed with life. I…
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What Secrets This Lake Keeps
What secrets this lake keeps When the dark nights rain And it’s just humid enough For the lake to stain With the ghost of clouds That couldn’t quite take flight. There’s a story here Only unfolding in those nights. Billy lives in that mansion across the way. Him, his mistress and a perfect family. He…
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The Last Twinkies
WordPress Daily Prompt – Varnish The varnish on the wood steps is peeling away, cracking and splintering like the shards I’ve begun to feel in my soul. How long … I wonder. Has it always been that way or did it degrade suddenly and explosively? Just like this world? Just like me? Maybe it was…
Kelley Farrell 