I’ve reduced the number of works I’m making available on the site, in order to have a more honest go at having stuff published. This short story was written in July 2013, which seems a world away, and was put in front of the London Road Irregulars, which was a lovely support group that fizzled out a bit. A cursory look doesn’t encourage me that this style of writing is particularly prized by submissions editors, but I like it, so I’m going to put it up here. It’s pretty much as-was, with only a few minor tweaks, and certainly without the helpful notes I received on it, but it’s a nice read for a Friday.
#fridayflash, wordbunches on a Friday. I wrote this in a cafe last month, because felt guilty for not writing much, but I couldn’t be bothered to revise it heavily. We need to come up for a word that means “enjoy” but suits more serious stuff. Answers on a postcard. Also, yesterday was my two-year blogging anniversary!
I was dressed in black, obviously.
#fridayflash, wordbunches on a Friday. New for 2014: nothing. This week’s prompt is “the hill at dawn”.
We sat on the hill, waiting for sunrise. The grass had frosted over, and street lamps shone from the valley below, a starcloth that muted the stars. You were sat with your kneees tucked under your chin, and your arms wrapped around your legs. You were leaning on me, ever so slightly, so I daredn’t shift my weight, even as my leg died underneath me. You were staring straight out across the valley, but not at anything in particular.
I read in your expression the words you were plucking up the courage to say to me. We both knew this relationship was going to lead to one of two things, and marriage was not on our minds. Dinner and drinking and dancing all night were just displacement activity – our real task was Avoiding the Subject.
#fridayflash, wordbunches every Friday. Now with Soundcloud readings and guests. This week’s prompt is “arriving somewhere unexpected”.
Send me your own #fridayflash piece – details at the bottom (under the read more).
My dear, dear darling, I write to you in most perilous circumstances. My adventure has turned to misadventure. That is to say, the expedition in the rainforest has gone terribly awry. We ventured mistakenly from the main river and into a narrow creek, which lead directly to rapids and a waterfall, which would of course splinter my boat and my bones. In my enthusiasm to escape this fate, I snapped my oar clean in two. In the end, we had to rapidly abandon the boat, with what little supplies I and my guide could carry, and swim to shore.
Introducing #fridayflash, and its attendant unironic hashtag. New wordbunchings every Friday. Feel free to join in. Rules are your own.
What I did on my summer holidays
This summer, we headed for a fortnight in the south of France. This was a dreadful mistake.
As a bonus for today, here’s a post from Nick Palmer’s blog about the writer’s group we are both a part of, and I have failed to mention. It speaks truth. It has inspired me to keep plugging away at that play I’ve been guiltily referring to since last year, and is a wonderful group of people to chat with.