Daily Picspiration - Final Decimation

I thought I was done with my Daily Picspiration serial, but this photo was perfect for an ending. This one made me cry when I wrote it, so I hope it moves you too.

Posted on May 31st, you can read Part 10 - 'Final Decimation' here.  

For the rest of the story, here are the links. 

You can read Part 9 - 'The Future' here. 
You can read Part 8 - 'Dealing with shit' here.
You can read Part 7 - 'Discovery' here. 
You can read Part 6 - 'Occupied' here. 
You can read Part 5 - 'Provisions' here.
You can read Part 4 - 'Moving Out' here.
You can read Part 3 - 'New Recruit' here.
You can read Part 2 - New Location here. 
You can read Part 1 - Frozen here.

 

100 Words - Smooth

I have missed the 100 Words challenge linky, but I liked what I wrote, so I am posting it anyway. It's a little different. Enjoy!

He licked the surface with great care, not wanting to rush and lose any of the sensation as the smooth texture of the cold granite glided across the flat of his tongue. Martin craved it, almost wanted to bite it, feel its hard brittle stone texture against his teeth too. He couldn’t help it. It reminded him of their night together; how she had shoved everything off the kitchen counter top and pulled herself up on to it, and then wrapped her legs round him, pulling him in too. This was the closest he could get to experiencing it again.

Five Sentence Fiction - Diversion

The Five Sentence Fiction photo didn't work for me, so I have used a different picture, but the word did. Enjoy.

 

Mindy hadn’t expected to find herself here at all; she was meant to be a successful Film Producer by now, not stuck in a crappy secretarial job, living in a shared house with people she would rather not know.

If she hadn’t let him in, let herself be wooed, given up all her plans for a life with him, she’d be on track by now, doing what she was meant to be doing not picking up the pieces after wasted years.

She shifted in her seat by the café window; wasted was a harsh word and one she didn’t like to use, but it was how she felt. She’d given up all her dreams to share a life with him in his home town, but the minute they’d moved there he’d gone back to his old life, socialising without her, doing his own thing, leaving her alone to do hers, except for the brief moments he needed to ‘be a couple’, for work or some social gathering with his couple friends.

Well she’d given it long enough, now it was time to get things back on track and just consider it a diversion, a reminder to never to give up on her dreams again.  

Visual Dare - Burden

Another compelling photo for Visual Dare this week, which had to be written for. Such a powerful picture needs a powerful story.  

 

It was heavy, but Martin bore the load. He’d been carrying it for many years; it was a part of him. He knew that his back wasn’t as strong as it once was and he walked with a stoop, but it was the price he paid for not being there when he should have been, to protect his only son.

It didn’t matter how many people told him he wasn’t to blame, he knew deep down he was. He shouldn’t have walked away. He shouldn’t have allowed another man to come in and take over his role as a father. He shouldn’t have let his ego and pride get in the way of his sense of duty. He foolishly believed his son was better off without him. And now his son was alone in a place he couldn’t reach - not yet anyway, not until he’d learnt his lesson. 

Words 149

Five Sentence Fiction - Steam

A little tale prompted by Five Sentence Fiction and possibly in respond to my recent holiday where we visited a transit camp from the Second World War. The very idea leaves you cold.

Olga stood on the train platform, the steam whirling round her then pulling away with the train as it left, reflecting how a part of her soul felt as she watched it go. She had no idea when he might be back again, ‘if ever’ her mind whispered, but she didn’t want to face that.

The war had brought them together, surely it wouldn’t tear them apart too?

But there was no telling with the stories the newsreels brought, the horror of more and more fallen soldiers each week. And should he get captured she prayed his family heritage would remain hidden, or the next train might be one of the cattle trucks she’d seen on the newsreel last week, when they boasted about the cleansing in the gas chambers.   

Horror Bites - Fertiliser

The new Horror Bites photo prompt took a while to provoke anything. I had the opening for this, but took me a while to find out where it is going. And it leaves me with a little smirk every time I reach the end. Hope you enjoy it too.

Stu carefully measured out the dose, gloves on, not wanting it to touch his skin. He held his breath too, not risking the fumes. Enclosed in the shed the smell was cloying, especially with the sun steaming in.

Yes, it was broad daylight. He sniggered to himself. That was why this was fool proof, no one would believe he’d done it; out here in the daytime, doing nothing untoward in his garden shed, just preparing some fertiliser for the vegetable patch.

Stu stifled the urge to laugh out loud. She’d hear him and come looking. He put the dose in the watering can and gave it a good stir, then picked it up and took it out to the garden.

There she was lying out on the lounger, skin all greased up, flat on her back, huge 70’s sunglasses hiding her oversized face, soaking in the sun on spontaneous day off. He felt his nostrils flare in disgust. What on earth was he thinking marrying her? If only he’d known then what he knew now.

He went over to the vegetable patch, and set the can down ready. Then he started digging out a nice big rectangle in the centre, a good foot or two deep.

It wasn’t long before he heard her footsteps behind him, prying.

“What’s that for then?” Her squeaky voice pierced his ear.

“You’ll see in a minute.”

She looked round. “I don’t see any plants for it.”

“No, I’ve not bought them yet.”

“Bit silly to be digging the hole then, innit?”

“No, not really, the holes for the fertiliser I’m putting in.”

“What you mean like cow dung or something?”

“No, I mean human dung.”

As a frown appeared on her face, he swung the spade and cracked her across the head. She went down hard. He swung it twice more to finish the job, before dragging her into the hole. Then he grabbed the watering-can and started pouring liberally, covering his nose and mouth as flesh started to melt.

He wondered what vegetables would grow best here, once he’d dug her in.  

349 Words 

Daily Picspiration - The Future

My Daily Picspiration entry went up on Sunday. School holidays are over and I am catching up. This is the latest and possibly final episode of this series. I am not sure yet if I want to continue with it or write something new. We'll see what the next set of photos offer. But I have left it in a place where it can stop or continue.

Posted on May17th, you can read Part 9 - 'The Future' here. 

You can read Part 8 - 'Dealing with shit' here.
You can read Part 7 - 'Discovery' here. 
You can read Part 6 - 'Occupied' here. 
You can read Part 5 - 'Provisions' here.
You can read Part 4 - 'Moving Out' here.
You can read Part 3 - 'New Recruit' here.
You can read Part 2 - New Location here. 
You can read Part 1 - Frozen here.

Daily Picspiration - Dealing with Shit

My Daily Picspiration entry went up on Sunday.  I'm a bit delayed in posting about it due to being away on holiday. I have written the next two entries ahead of time due to this. The photos worked well for me too, although this one is just a short snippet of the challenges they face.

Posted on May 4th, you can read Part 8 - 'Dealing with shit' here.

You can read Part 7 - 'Discovery' here. 
You can read Part 6 - 'Occupied' here. 
You can read Part 5 - 'Provisions' here.
You can read Part 4 - 'Moving Out' here.
You can read Part 3 - 'New Recruit' here.
You can read Part 2 - New Location here. 
You can read Part 1 - Frozen here.

 

Five Sentence Fiction - Departure

Just a quick piece for Five Sentence Fiction to start the new month, before I disappear off for a week or two for the school holidays. A picture and word that couldn't be resisted.

 

Esmeralda watched the ground fall away as the plane took off; the land she had fall in love with grow smaller and smaller, a part of her soul remaining with it, never to leave.

She wondered again why she was leaving, and the sensible voice came back as fast as a whip to say, “because your visa has run out’. Yes, she knew that, but she could have found a way to stay, a way to extend her visa, turn it into a secondment or sponsorship – my god, even the friend who drove her to the airport had suggested their boss hadn’t found a replacement for her yet, her old job was still open.

So why was she going, why was she leaving the one place where she had felt complete for the first time in her life?

And the answer came to her in the form of his face in her mind’s eye; he wasn’t ready for her yet, he was too young, and she couldn’t bear trying to hang on to something that wasn’t meant to be.