{image source} “It’s too hard. I can’t. I’m scared,” I looked at her pleadingly, desperate for her to protect me from rapidly impending adulthood. “You CAN do it. Everyone feels like this, but I know you can do this.” Her eyes twinkled as she reached into the basket slung over her arm. Something behind her fluttered, but my attention was pulled to her now-outstretched hand.
{photo source} The swirling snow guaranteed only most foolhardy and desperate would venture forth today. I would be safe, I reassured myself as I carefully made my way to the waiting carriage. There was no risk of seeing her, giving me more time to process the events of the previous evening’s ball. The way her eyes flashed as she spoke, the way they crinkled in
Each Monday I’ll post a challenge designed to push your comfort zone. A mix of stuff from the WIP and something new. Different styles. Different settings. Different lengths. The result is due as a link in the comment section here on the Friday of the same week. I’m mainly posting as accountability for Car, but if you’d like to play along too, we’d love to
Each Monday I’ll post a challenge designed to push your comfort zone. A mix of stuff from the WIP and something new. Different styles. Different settings. Different lengths. The result is due as a link in the comment section here on the Thursday of the same week. I’m mainly posting as accountability for Car, but if you’d like to play along too, we’d love to
I was chatting to the lovely Car the other day, and we were lamenting a lack of blogging mojo and how we sometimes go through slumps where it seems stale and all too hard. Her particular sticking point was her writing blog. And so I suggested maybe a challenge to get her mind out of her WIP and pushing the edges of her box might
The airport was noisy and full of people rushing to be somewhere else. Occasionally the doors would open and a fresh wave of people would flood into the arrivals hall, scanning thw crowds for a familiar face. The longer she stood there, waiting for it to be her turn for someone to smile in her direction, to scoop her up in a hug, the more
The first time I saw him, the next day, he was yet to wake. Eyes closed, his face still. I felt his peace, and lay close by. I held his hand, took a breath and slept as well. ~~~ Adding 33 single syllable words to the prompt “The first time I saw…” for this week’s Trifextra challenge. This is a first person take on a
Three weeks. It sounds like a lot, at the start. But then we blink, or we turn around, or we something, and it’s over. Between the Christmas Eve stuff and the Christmas Day stuff and the camping in the mountains and the New Year stuff where we went to bed well before midnight because that’s what happens when you have a small army of sleep
{photo source} She winked at herself in the mirror, pleased with her attempts at styling her hair for tonight’s party. Her smile faltered just a little as her reflected self winked back, a split second later than expected. There is was again, the feeling something wasn’t right, that the self in the mirror wasn’t an exact reflection. Uneasy, she raised her hand up near
{image source} Birds chirping, leaves stirring in the breeze, the gentle perfume of newly bloomed flowers, warm sun on skin. The signs of spring surrounded Alice, as she rested on the park bench. Children played behind her, in front of her, mothers with babies in prams helped their toddlers feed bread to the ducks. The chaotic rhythm of a midweek morning occasionally interrupted by the
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