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Listen & Write: Hot N Cold

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This week Ermilia has provided us with ‘Listen & Write’ a spin-off from Picture It & Write. The song was Hot N Cold by Katy Perry (a singer a despise) which I felt suited a bad break up story. If you’d like to join in the link to Ermilia’s blog is here.

                                                                                                                                                                                

Drip drop, drip drop the ominous dripping of water signified a pipe leakage, Sara took no notice of it as she back away from the man she thought she once knew. Her memories of him contained a soft faced man who’s delicate caress sent tendrils of adoration to her heart and took root. Sara wanted to see that man again, wanted to feel his loving touch, to hear his kind words brushing the back of her neck.

The man advancing on her now was not that man, he was deranged, foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog with his mane of bedraggled hair falling about his face as he approached, snarling. This was not the man she had cast aside six months ago, unaware of the hatred that would form for her.

“Please, don’t hurt me Matt,” Sara pleaded, feeling the cold steel pipes make contact with her back, she was cornered, nowhere to run, no one to call out for.

“Don’t hurt you? Like you didn’t hurt me,” Matt snarled, his lips contorting into a crazed smile, feeling her fear so strongly he could smell it.

“Matt please, I didn’t know, I…”

“Matt please…” He mimicked, throwing back his head and cackling demonically, “Of course you knew Sara,”

“I didn’t love you anymore, I didn’t want to pull you along.” She said, remembering the last weeks of their relationship and how she’d carried his love without fueling herself with her own.

“Why not?” Matt asked, his mud brown eyes welling with tears, he fell to his knees and began to cry. Sara watched and remembered Matt’s abnormal way of switching emotions very quickly, the doctor had said he was bi-polar.

Picture it & Write: Burning Kiss

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My piece for this weeks ‘Picture it & Write’, which is organised my Ermilia, the link to this week’s prompt is here. Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome.

 

 

Ted watched the wisps of smoke curl and ascend from the woman’s full lips lathered with scarlet lipstick. It flew away smoothly, white gaseous ballerina’s dancing into invisibility.

“Got ya eyes on Nancy do ya? She’s a demon that one, a beautiful one never the less but a demon through and through.” Johnny whispered loudly in his ear, his voice slurred and thick with intoxication. Ted’s eyes never strayed from Nancy, he was mesmerised by her ravishing appearance, he felt her knavish steam prickle his flesh.

“Your talking crap Johnny,” Ted replied, watching as Nancy flexed her long manicured nails which were painted scarlet like her lips, he watched as blood seemed to drip from her finger tips. With a gasp he recoiled, shaking his head, he’d seen a hallucination.

“No no mate, I’m serious, some say she paints her nails and lips with the blood of her victims.”

“Victims?” Ted asked, once again entranced as Nancy stood up, her deep red boots glittering in the candlelight of the saloon. She walked past them, her rose scented perfume knocking Ted’s sense’s clear out of the water, as she passed she stroked his arm and he felt a burning shiver crawl through his body.

“Yea, she puts people in a trance and does wicked things to them,”

“Whatever wicked things she does, I’m going to find out.” Ted smirked at Johnny and swaggered after Nancy, his tassels waving and cowboy boots clinking. He followed Nancy up to her room, and disappeared into her lair, the strong pungent of roses and blood attacked him and fiery touch burned his lips and spread through his body, muffling his screams.

Friday Fictioneers: Sharp Ends, Part 10

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Sharp Ends Series:/ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 /

As soon as I saw this prompt I knew what to write. The link to Madison Wood’s website where friday fictioneers is done, is here. Constructive criticism is welcome, I hope you enjoy.

 

 

Her emotional dam collapsed then, her thoughts and emotions spilling out like a waterfall.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry David! Because of you we were drowning in debt and you were drowning yourself in alcohol. I was angry at you and confused and he was just there, your brother helped me, cared for me and loved me, and then he left, and pretended it had never happened!” She cried, her guilt had its jaws tightly latched to her and was now tearing at her, spilling her blood.

She sobbed, tears and emotions saturating her, and then he was there, the man she had fallen in love with was holding her and helping her. She suddenly stopped and looked at him, in his abrasive palm was a collection of red berries.

“We eat these and we’ll never have to worry again.” David leaned forward and whispered softly.

Friday Fictioneers: Sharp Ends, Part 8

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Sharp Ends:/ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 /Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 /

Whew, this week’s prompt doesn’t seem too hard. If you want to join friday fictioneers, great! Click here. Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome.

 

 

It was definite, the plane was crashing, they were falling to their death and yet she felt at ease, almost happy. Out the window, she could see the engine had turned into a raging ball of fire, smoke billowing from it like ash from a volcano. The fire seethed like a living creature, bringing down its prey, he lunged for her hand and began begging, she was ignorant to him though.

“Brace for impact!” The speaker’s blared, she kicked him away and cowered beneath her arms, waiting for relief from her guilt. Suddenly the plane collided with earth, the immense pressure knocking her from her seat, she began rolling and crashing about. She blacked out for a second before regaining consciousness as the plane skidded to a halt. She looked up, shaking all over, the cockpit of the plane had disappeared, revealing a forest which nestled beneath the mountains they had recently flown over.

Friday Fictioneers: Sharp Ends, Part 7

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Sharp Ends Series: / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

“Oh dear” is what I thought when I saw this weeks prompt, “Is Madison trying to make my brain explode!” Well, I’ve done it, and surprisingly, I think it’s a bit too much over 100 word. Anyway hope you enjoy, constructive criticism is welcome, and Madison’s blog is here.

 

The plane lurched and pitched like an ocean liner in a storm, she didn’t cry in fear though, she would be happy if she died now, the pain of regret and guilt would wash away as easily as soap suds. 

 He yelped though, struggling to stand, he swayed like a drunken man as he stumbled down the aisle, it reminded her of their barbabic wedding. She remembered the humiliation of that day well, like a film it played in her head in her last hours of living.

Him tottering into the chapel late, eyes blurry and bloodshot, an empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Outside the chapel there had been a blimp in the sky, everyone had pointed excitedly, but he had fainted from the nausea of looking up at it. 

“Cathrine!” He yelled at her, stumbling back down the aisle towards her and falling to his knee beside her. “I’m sorry Cathrine I am, I love you, I do, but why did you do it?” She simply stared at him and answered bluntly.

“Do you remember our wedding?”

Friday Fictioneer’s: Sharp Ends, Part 3

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Sharp Ends Series: /Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 /

Here is this weeks’s prompt from Madison Wood’s Friday fictioneers, found here. It is also the third part in my ‘Sharp Ends’ series, so enjoy.

 

 

 

Barbed wire bit at her wrists, it held her captive, teaching her a lesson for what she had done. Fear and guilt also held her prisoner, weighing her down like a concrete block.

He circled her like a cobra, waiting to strike with his verbal vemon. In his hand the knife glinted cruely, the moonlight made it wink nefariously. She imagined fur growing from his body as he transformed into a werewolf under the eyes of the full moon, but he didn’t.

In her hand she grasped a sharp-edged stone, sawing at her bindings, she felt a boost of confidence swell inside her as she held the weapon. Would the same confidence remain when she attacked though? Could she actually kill the man she really loved? 

Friday Fictioneer’s: Sharp Ends, Part 1

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Sharp Ends Series: /Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 /Part 7 /

So it’s thursday again,

time for friday fiction, if you

want to join, click Here, for

more information.

 

 

 

 

Century old wood, groaned beneath her feet as she climbed the arthritic stairs onto the porch of the derelict house. She pried the door open, gripping the barbed wire in her beautifully manicured hands, ready to pounce on her prey.

The hallway was empty of life, except for the rats in the walls and the termites making their homes in the floor. Faded wallpaper, which had been popular in the seventies, latched onto the walls with their last curling fingers.

She entered the lounge and saw him sitting in a mouldy couch with springs sticking out like castle defences. Slowly, she edged forward until she was close enough, before throwing the barbed wire around his neck and tugging tightly.

He straggled briefly, his relaxed, unready muscles not filled with strength to stop her, the wire sunk deeper until he stopped flailing, his last words filled the room.

“I loved you…..”

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