Wednesday, 3 December 2008

Cold memories

It was always the grey November sky with their dank mists, rotting leaves and the caws of birds unseen that makes the memories scratch and scrabble back. I am running and falling; they are screaming, yelling and getting nearer. My heart shakes. A hand looms and my childhood is over.

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This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.