The Dream

The pressure of his thumbs working into her shoulders felt divine. The weight of his fingers curling over her collar bone pulled the stress of the day away. She closed her eyes and sighed enjoying the moment, breathing in the smell of the outdoors that he brought with him. Each mirrored circle moving up her neck was bliss pulling a smile at the corner of her lips.

"Better?" he whispered into her ear.

"Mmmmm" was all she could muster as he started to trail kisses down her jaw line. "But now I know this will all end soon."

"Why?" he asked, confusion laced in his voice.

"Because I have wished for this so many times. Coveted those hands, lingered over those lips so many times. But I will never actually feel the relief like this." She sighed, water lacing her lashes threatening to over spill to her cheek. She almost wished it would then her would wipe it away tenderly like he always did. "You are just a dream my love, nothing more. A fantastical and wonderful illusion that I will wake up from shortly"

"Are you sure about that?" he enquired with a twinkle in his eye that she had never seen before, he usually just looked as sad as she did. Her dreams were getting cruel.

"Pretty sure. When I close my eyes you'll disappear and this will never have happened, except in my heart"

"Try it and see then, but lets hope the temptation to tickle you when you have your eyes closed is not too great"

So with a deep breath she looked deep into his ice blue eyes, lingering on the tiny dark flecks and closed her eyes allowing the tear to slide down her cheek...

How do you like yours?

I love stories! Stories in all of their disguises; sharing a bedtime story with my girls, reading a great novel, writing a characters story, reading a story to a class visiting the library. But my favourite way to enjoy a story by far is to simply listen.

Last weekend we got to visit Settle Storytelling Festival and we had so much fun. We bought magic beans, hunted story tellers and exchanged our beans for stories. We ate cakes and bought notebooks and gloves at the makers market. We even had fun in a yarn maze before finishing with more amazing tales.

What I loved about the festival is they prove that sharing stories is not just a venture for children, it's for us grown ups too!

There was only one downside to the weekend. Part of the festival was a competition to write a story on a postcard which could have been picked as part of an exhibition on festival weekend. And yes, you guessed it...the story I wrote and posted did not get chosen. However on the bright-side it does mean I can share it with you guys now.

original image found here and was the inspiration for my story.

The Cottage

Water oozed around Guin’s fingers as she pressed them into the moss covering the derelict cottage. Curiosity tingled though her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Tilting her head to the right she let the barriers in her mind drop.

As she opened her eyes, the dream-like images of a life long forgotten began to take shape around her.

A young man carries his bride over the threshold. The young woman is beautiful, her red hair glowing in the evening light as she waits for him to return. The axe thuds to the floor, her giggle rings out like a peal of bells as he picks her up and swings her in a circle. The seasons pass, their love grows as they gain laughter lines around their eyes. But sorrow begins to haunt the woman’s smile, a suffocating longing for lives that will never be. Slowly the couple accept their life alone and grow old and happy together. The no longer young man still dotes on his wife, bringing her wildflowers every day of summer, their sweet sent drifting on the breeze.

But the winter is cold, too cold. The couple gets into bed for the last time, locked in the same loving embrace. Then nature creeps in to reclaim the lovers and their house, a tree growing up around their bed.

Guin knelt shivering on the warm forest floor. Looking at the damp moss where her hand lay, crying for the beautiful life with no witness but her. Today, being an empath was a gift.

So how do you like yours? Are you a listener, a writer or do you have a story to tell?

A little parting tune because his voice is yummy!!

Hello........Is there anybody there?

I kind of feel like a stranger walking into a dusty old house. You know the kind; it feels really familiar as you climb the wooden steps to the front door, the creak for each slow and careful step you take never taking your eyes from the peeling duck egg paint on the door. Your breathing deep and heavy is the only thing you can hear as you reach for the cold brass of the door knob, drawing you to it with some unexplainable force. Your fingers barely touch the pitted metal when the door pops open and groans on the dusty dark hall way...

view original here

"Hello, is there anyone there" you call out. You realise then you know this place, you loved this place once when it was full of words and friends. But you have been gone so long you aren't sure it can be the same again. There is no answer straight away, but that is ok the fear in the pit of your stomach has gone. This is your house, it just needs some tlc; a broom and a lick of paint, maybe a party with some cupcakes!!


So, I have been gone a while. I haven't blogged, I haven't read any blogs. What have I been doing you ask?? Um well, lets see. I have written a little; you know the ambitions I mentioned last time, the ones I was running head long at? I had this idea in my head that I might dive gracefully into them. Well I maybe bounced off them a little (think a big pile of jelly), but I have started my book, I have my idea and a couple of chapters as a start of my first draft, they will have to be re-written very soon but it's a start.

Other than that I have been doing a lot of reading, mainly because that is pretty much all you can do in bed. The last six weeks have seen me in and out of hospital like a yo-yo and books have been my refuge. Those and some amazing friends who have spent way too many hours on facebook and twitter keeping me sane!! It seems a bit pathetic that since the beginning of July I don't have more to report but I really don't, I guess that's why I haven't been blogging much; hospital food, an operation and the odd book really aren't that interesting!

I will say if you fancy a good read check out Marissa Meyer - Cinder and Laini Taylor - Daughter of Smoke and Bone.

Hopefully I will find time to get on here to blog a little more regularly, in the meantime be safe ;-)

A little taster of my latest musical obsession the Lost-who?!?! ;-) If you haven't heard of Imagine Dragons go listen to them now, this is my favourite song!!

Oh I nearly forgot, I did manage to submit a postcard short story that will hopefully be in an exhibition in October locally and then after that in India, I will keep you posted ;-)

The colour of sadness

So Deb at Kicking Corners set a challenge this week to create a new colour. In all seriousness she put out there a great writing exercise; giving us all the same set of words, pictures and music she sent us out into the world to see what we could create. The theory being that no two people could create the same thing, even when given the same ingredients. Have you ever noticed that no matter how closely you follow the instructions in a recipe book yours never turns out looking like the picture? 

I digress, here is what I created whilst listening to the celtic/fairytale music and all before the track ended (shhh, don't tell anyone the track is an hour long, sounds better if when you don't know that!)

I have highlighted the 3 words I chose to use and this is the image that stuck in my mind when I cam to write.

link to original here

“I’m not strong enough for this” Delen whispered through her tears, looking down at their intertwined hands.

“Yes you are. You are the strongest person I have ever met.” Bryce replied using his finger to pull her chin up and force her to look him in the eye. “You are the first human in a millennia to be strong enough to find us.”

“That’s different. I’m not strong enough to live without you.”

“You have a life that needs you Delen. I will not let your story end just because ours has reached its conclusion. I need to know that you have lived.”

“But you are the piece that has been missing, why do you have to be taken from me just as I found you? How will I know that this was all real and not a dream.”

“Kira, look up. What do you see?”

“Our stars.”

“Every time you see the stars you will know what we had was real, you will feel me in your heart. And in that way I will live on, inside you always.”

The village horn sounded, the end was near. Bryce stood and pulled Delen into his arms, one final embrace before he would watch her walk away. They looked into each other’s eyes, their lips met for the last time, the taste of salt bitter on their lips. The Delen pulled away, if she didn’t do this now she wouldn’t go.

“I will always remember you Bryce” Delen whispered, their fingers keeping contact as she backed further away. When their arms could stretch no more Bryce pulled his fingers away, Delen felt her heart lurch. She drank in her last view of Bryce; trying to remember every last detail, cataloguing it for future use. And then she turned and began to walk.

As soon as she was clear of the village Delen began to run, run toward the place she would call home but it wouldn’t be...it could never be she had just left her home behind. Sobbing, her chest heaving from running Delen heard a thunderous sound and turned in time to see the village consumed in a tower of wrath, obliterating their existence. But she would know who they had been.

Delen collapsed under the weight of the memories that flooded her with each heaving sob; Bryce teaching her to haggle in the market place, the brilliance of the night stars as from where they lay making shapes by joining them like a giant dot-to-dot, but mostly she would remember the other part of her soul. She suddenly felt blessed to have had the time they did together, short as it was at least their souls were reunited for a time. And would be again...

PS because I forgot yesterday, Happy Valentines Day :-)

Day 14 NaBloPoMo - National Short Story Week

Apologies, original writing Wednesday has drifted to Thursday. But as I haven't yet gone to bed to me it is Wednesday still...ok?! If not blame Deb at Kicking Corners for keeping me chatting!

I read somewhere that this week is National Short Story Week so I have spent all day trying to come up with something to mark this occasion on my little old blog and here it is.

Some of you may have met Faith and Dan before here even in the space of that little exercise she was me without the baggage yet started to morph into her own character. Well she continues to have her own little random adventures, every now and then coming to play in my mind for a while, giving me snippets of her life before the cottage (or after I'm not sure sometimes). Today she wanted to play, regardless of my attempts to tell her tomorrow, today is for serious writing. I think she has a little of my childish side because this just caused a little strop and a day of nothing of use for a short story. Tired and past the daily deadline I have given in and she has her story, I hope you like it.

The Room looked sumptuous and elegant. The guests all in the monochromatic palate and the classy decorations of crystal and candles gave an air of magic about the place. The band playing a mix of pop and rock songs acoustically gave it a timeless energy, people were dancing and smiling. And the donations were coming in thick and fast, Faith had done this. They had been tasked with organising the annual fundraising masquerade together, but seriously Dan’s forte was lugging things around or being outdoors, not stuck in here with sparkly things. She had carried him and he knew it. Now all he had to do was not mess this up!

‘Slow, slow, quick, quick slow.’ The steps to their dance were revolving round in Dan’s head like some kind of speech in a language he didn’t speak or understand. He was going to prove he had two left feet not only to a room full of strangers, plus a few people he knew, but to her. Why exactly did they have to stick with tradition again?

In that moment Dan looked up to see Faith enter the Grand Ballroom and stand at the top of the stair case. She paused, surveying the room to make sure it was as perfect as she had left it. In that pause Dan couldn’t breathe. She simply sparkled. It wasn’t her dress; although it was stunning, a backless number, an interesting mix of lace over satin that skimmed her hips and just touched the top of her shoes, with a split up the left side to allow maximum movement. No she was radiant; her eyes shone through the black mask, adorned with feathers that had a blue/green cast perfectly complementing the green of her eyes, her red hair falling in curls over her shoulders and her red lips the only shots of true colour. Dan recovered himself, realising he had been staring open mouthed for longer than was polite and made his way to the bottom of the stairs.

“You look amazing” was all he could mumble as she glided to meet him.

“Looking good yourself” Faith admired Dan’s toned muscular body wrapped in the tailored black suit, black shirt and tie. “Opting for the non-traditional I see” noting the lack of a bow tie.

“You know me” he shrugged, attempting a natural smile and failing miserably. 

The band came to rest and the master of ceremonies announced the moment Dan had been dreading.

‘Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow. Don’t balls this up, don’t balls this up’ Dan thought to himself.

“Relax” Faith whispered in his ear, sending an electric current down his back.

“Ladies and gentlemen it is my supreme pleasure to present the organisers of this evening’s festivities in the first tango of the evening. Please give them a warm welcome as the take their places on the floor”

Dan inhaled and led his lady onto the floor, presenting her to the room and their rapturous applause. Just for this moment she was his and he was hers, this was their time. Muse-Starlight began to pump across the dance floor and Dan took Faith into his arms, she had chosen this for him and that made him smile on the inside. The closeness of their bodies meant he could feel the beating of their hearts, as one, in time to the bass line of the music. His hand on her bare back and started to lead her in this dance of love. The sensual slowness around the floor, punctuated by the staccato change of direction and the pauses. The pauses that seemed to pulse with the desire they both felt in that moment.

Neither thought about the steps, neither thought of the crowd around them. There was only music. There was only the beating of their hearts. There was only the feeling of their bodies, moving as one, the tension between them growing. The last few steps and Dan dipped Faith into a classical kiss position, their eyes locked framed by their masks, holding that moment drinking each other in. Dan’s lips so close to Faith’s, how he would love to kiss her right now.

After a moment too long, paused and fighting temptation, the applause roused them from their dream and Dan brought Faith back to her feet, leading her to the edge of the dance floor and into the waiting crowd.

He didn’t speak to her again all night, simply watched her move through the crowd with the grace and air of a professional hostess. It was beautiful and alluring to watch. What was he doing getting jealous of the men she was talking to? And if that letch let his hand wander down her back one more time.......

PS Loki at The Modfather posted today (yesterday) one of her funniest posts since I found her.Go have a read and a giggle!