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Magnolia flower bud for silence poem

Silence is more beautiful than any song

After the entire restaurant hears a plate crash in the kitchen. When the final and most devastating insult is slung in an argument. When there’s an unexpected pause in traffic during rush hour. When you remember…..

I knew I should never have given her that fifty pounds

It was one of those freezing cold miserable January days. Everyone is depressed because the fun of Christmas is over and cold and flu bugs are going around everywhere and it was no wonder I’d caught it too. There was no-one at work to cover for me, so I trudged in, coat and scarf wrapped around me, and hoped I wasn’t on the perfume till near the door. My manager took pity on me and gave me the best spot at the back and near the heater. Amy must have forgotten I work at Boots on Mondays. Or perhaps she didn’t know – my shifts do change around a bit. Anyway, I spotted her browsing over the other side and I admit, my attention wasn’t wholly on my customers. She was at the makeup aisles for three-quarters of an hour! Has she not got anything better to do? She swatched lipsticks and tested eye-shadows and I couldn’t believe it when I saw her take a basket of expensive make-up to the tills on the other side. I knew I should never have given her that fifty pounds. It isn’t like I’m rich; it isn’t like I wouldn’t like to spend fifty quid on make-up for myself. How dare she?…..

You can’t trust March

This is a mini story I wrote in half an hour at Writers’ group last week. We were given the topic: ‘You can’t trust March’ and it had to be written in dialogue. ‘Oh I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’ ‘What?’ ‘That – planting out those begonias.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘It’s far too soon.’ ‘Too soon? It’s lovely and warm. I’m in a t-shirt.’ ‘But you could have your coat on tomorrow. You can’t trust March.’

Neighbours from Hell!

Our homework for writers’ group last week was to write a short story about neighbours from hell. The title of mine is: Smoking is bad for your health ‘Hi,’ I said shyly to the new neighbour. ‘Hi,’ she replied, and smiled. This was the extent of our pleasantries for about a week, until somehow, we got chatting. I can’t remember what about now, but oh how I wish I had looked the other way; just got on with my life and never said anything to her. However, here were these new neighbours and they were about the same age as us and it’s so difficult making friends with other people our age; and they just seemed so nice! ….

Characters & Characteristics

February 28, 2012

A writers’ group exercise: Take a character from one list, and a characteristic from another. We had half an hour and this is what I came up with…

halloween short story

A Halloween Romance

November 5, 2011

Competition time again at our writers’ group. We were challenged to write a short story with a ghost/supernatural theme. This was my go… A Hallowe’en Romance It was a cold clear night as a witch, a devil and Frankenstein’s monster made their way down the High Street towards Susan. The witch’s head was far too big for her body and she parted her black wig in order to be able to see from the eye sockets. The monster’s cloak had inadvertently wrapped around the devil’s trident and it nearly tripped them both up. The trio whispered to each other as they approached Susan, and just when it looked like they were going to pass her, they suddenly turned, with their hands up in the air and yelled in her face. She’d been expecting something, but none-the-less it made her jump and she let out a little scream. As the kids ran off laughing, she called after them, ‘Your costumes are rubbish.’

ghost town barn

“The first time I smelled that…”

The little village of Pilton in Somerset has been home to many creative people, including authors such as Fay Weldon, John Le Carre and Guy Kennaway. Our writers’ group has been fortunate enough to have the company of Guy Kennaway recently; it’s so fascinating listening to a published author and having the opportunity to ask questions. A couple of weeks ago he gave us the line, “The first time I smelled that…” for our homework. We’d been talking about darker fiction involving children, which I think may have been the inspiration for me writing this…

pink alarm clock - a short story about Kurt Cobain

Another little thing I wrote at Writers’ Group this week. This time we were given the (potentially morbid) theme of suicide. We had half an hour to write, and this is what I did – the end is a bit rushed and silly though!

Our Writers’ Group homework last week was to write about a situation where people get stuck together eg in a broken down lift. This was what I wrote…