Fiction Writing
This was the tree alright, the dead one with no leaves. Streetlight nearby, no need for the torch I had brought. A night of hard labour ahead, best get to it. Sweat and dirt, clanging metal on rocky, hard ground. Takes longer than you think to dig a deep grave. At three in the morning … Continue reading THE GRAVEDIGGER
Through the gloom she found their spot where the flowers bloomed in the sunshine that sneaked through the gap in the tree canopy above. The ground was damp but she gave it no mind as she lay down in the wild grass. The sun warmed her face and arms, spring was in the air once … Continue reading BRIGHT EYES
His big hands would never be able to string up the intricate spindles, though she welcomed the attention of those capable hands on other occasions. His strong legs could push the treadles faster but he adored the shapely toned thighs and calves constantly pedalling the loom gave her. They each had their field of expertise: … Continue reading FRUIT OF THE LOOM
She'd had the idea while watching a gardening magazine show - apparently plants had emotions and responded to music and words. Perfect. She stripped down the old grand piano, rejigged the strings and hammers, filled it with grade-A compost and planted the seeds. She soon had a playlist - Rachmaninoff and Chopin went down best … Continue reading STRAWBERRY SWING
Their own quiet spot: the water brown from the muddy bed; the beach a mixture of sand and silt; the tree that grew out horizontally from the water's edge before curving up towards the heavens. It was here they had first stolen away together, away from the group of friends hanging around the park in … Continue reading THEIR TRANQUIL PLACE
