140 character story – drop by to Grandma's Goulash to leave your own
Flash Fiction learning that the heart of writing is imagination + craft + editing.
Monday, 30 December 2013
Saturday, 28 December 2013
And the Gods played fair
The tent fluttered in the wind that carried the banter and wood-smoke of marching men at rest. Inside a decision was made.
'You think the lash has freed his tongue? He lies to save his kin', said admiral Datus.
Lord Artaphernes, looked over and raised his hand for silence, 'I have studied Ktesia words, beneath the chaff of pain I sense a grain of truth. Burn him'
From Marathon, Miltiades saw the smoke and wept. Now his people had a chance. The death showed as agreed that no Calvary rested by the river.
'You think the lash has freed his tongue? He lies to save his kin', said admiral Datus.
Lord Artaphernes, looked over and raised his hand for silence, 'I have studied Ktesia words, beneath the chaff of pain I sense a grain of truth. Burn him'
From Marathon, Miltiades saw the smoke and wept. Now his people had a chance. The death showed as agreed that no Calvary rested by the river.
Friday, 27 December 2013
At the door walk on the wild side
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Dropped on the pavement, the hand with red nails looked like a broken rose.I picked it up and put it into my case. In the war I killed with makeup and dresses hidden but as an 'hero' I came out. Except it was Christmas so Jack's hand was screwed on and family lies maintained.
Dropped on the pavement, the hand with red nails looked like a broken rose.I picked it up and put it into my case. In the war I killed with makeup and dresses hidden but as an 'hero' I came out. Except it was Christmas so Jack's hand was screwed on and family lies maintained.
Thursday, 26 December 2013
Singing for Supper
Wednesday, 25 December 2013
A blind tasting
'Now what do you think the vintage is?'
'I am not sure, it could be a ‘24. I taste blackcurrants, warm summers, even a hint of steak, if you pardon my language.'
'Yes, quite.'
'But a bit too heavy and rough for me.'
'It's the neighbourhood now, but try this neck.'
'I am not sure, it could be a ‘24. I taste blackcurrants, warm summers, even a hint of steak, if you pardon my language.'
'Yes, quite.'
'But a bit too heavy and rough for me.'
'It's the neighbourhood now, but try this neck.'
Monday, 23 December 2013
Friday, 20 December 2013
But don't forget who's takin' you home
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Wearing the silver swirly skirt, brought on a champagne fuelled weekend in the '80's, she walked out barefoot. Sitting on the window ledges, her boys cheered as Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) got louder. Will, in Don Johnson jacket and stubble, reached up to her and got ready to dance for the last time.
Wearing the silver swirly skirt, brought on a champagne fuelled weekend in the '80's, she walked out barefoot. Sitting on the window ledges, her boys cheered as Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) got louder. Will, in Don Johnson jacket and stubble, reached up to her and got ready to dance for the last time.
Thursday, 19 December 2013
A Historical Mistake
Old meets new. The dirty yellowing bandaged body smeared the lab of white tiles and shiny steel in a room dark except for the pulsating green light in a single tube of glass. To its beat a ripped brown leather and blackened bone face appeared and faded from each shiny surface . Each a frozen death scream.
Looking down, Professor Williams hesitated to press the activate button. Failure would be to lose what Narmer the founder Pharaoh of Egypt could reveal. Yet could success be worse? Absolute power in any age made for men difficult to control. Yet the prize was recognition of his life's work. The University and department would be his! Calmer, he pressed the Energern.
The body under its rays began to shine and pulsate ever brighter and louder before a flash turned the room searing white. Professor Williams screamed in a language unheard since the Saharan crocodiles roamed free,
'Again will I fill the earth and subdue any living thing that moves on the earth.'
Wednesday, 18 December 2013
And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good
Thinking she's alone, Ann licked the coffee-cup lid. A creak said she wasn't but she continued anyway. He'd kill, but it'd be her death.
Tuesday, 17 December 2013
Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.
In summer we walk in my garden.
You see a tangle of brambles, wild grass, and weeds stretching back to broken walls. I see a garden of neat lawns, rose-beds and tucked away vegetable patches.
We stand together by a solitary yellow rose; I smell the past and you a future.
You see a tangle of brambles, wild grass, and weeds stretching back to broken walls. I see a garden of neat lawns, rose-beds and tucked away vegetable patches.
We stand together by a solitary yellow rose; I smell the past and you a future.
Monday, 16 December 2013
Saturday, 14 December 2013
The last note in the melody
I am born. Eden expels again.
My breath-scream calls to the first born - the one of dust. Its echo summons down to the mother of first flesh.
And each awaken voice sings the song of life. As the melody gets louder my eyes open and I begin my notes.
My breath-scream calls to the first born - the one of dust. Its echo summons down to the mother of first flesh.
And each awaken voice sings the song of life. As the melody gets louder my eyes open and I begin my notes.
Friday, 13 December 2013
For the sun and rain shines on us all
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I saw Jesus in the street today. He wasn't your heavy metal Jesus, all girlie hair with a beard and tight trousers to show he's a man. He was a hip-hop hoodie with love scratched on arms walking like his hips were ships in a storm. And I knew a door had opened for me.
I saw Jesus in the street today. He wasn't your heavy metal Jesus, all girlie hair with a beard and tight trousers to show he's a man. He was a hip-hop hoodie with love scratched on arms walking like his hips were ships in a storm. And I knew a door had opened for me.
Thursday, 12 December 2013
Monday, 9 December 2013
Friday, 6 December 2013
Love is a lie when not in their hearts, but in their eyes
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The sea was rough with horse waves, rode hard by a cold east wind.
I die...for a ghost watches without judgement. He had come in tears wearing shredded flesh and I gave love. Now he sails and loves only what waits ahead,
So at each shingle roar I mourn the kiss he never felt,
The sea was rough with horse waves, rode hard by a cold east wind.
I die...for a ghost watches without judgement. He had come in tears wearing shredded flesh and I gave love. Now he sails and loves only what waits ahead,
So at each shingle roar I mourn the kiss he never felt,
Monday, 2 December 2013
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