Another Universe

Without a ‘by your leave:’
They entered.

No longer a castle.
Now a treasure trove to mine.
And become not mine.

Busy Bee

So much to do, so little time.
There’s barely a moment to make this rhyme!

Ideas whizz round,
They’re fun in my brain.
But put them in action
They’re hard to tame.

2009 dates

Check out the meeting dates page for the 2009 Riverbank Writers get togethers.

Halloween

Note: I have been in real life to the Avebury 31 Oct ceremony, and of course this is inspired by that and the people there. But that is as far as it goes. It is in no way representative of the real Archdruid or anyone else!

We stamped our feet on the ground in an effort to stay warm.

It had seemed such a good idea when we were in the nice, warm cosy pub. The jolly chap with a beard turned out to be the Archdruid of Avebury and was going to lead the Hallow’een ceremony just before midnight.

The Vicar and the Burglar

This was written as part of the 30 Nov timed exercise. Basically I had 20 mins to write a story around the following random elements: vicar, burglar, praying, getting old!, children’s dance class. See ‘Writing exercises’ for more info.

Rev James locked the front door and jangled his keys on the way to the car.

“Hope I’m not late,” he thought. “Parishioners do pick their moments to ring!”

He had been 5 minutes away from leaving for his son’s Dance Revue, when the phone rang. Foolishly he picked it up. Many rambling sentences later, he learned that the parish supper next Thursday did NOT have enough chairs for the people likely to attend. Susie, who organised them, was well meaning but a bit of a fusspot.

Innocence and Experience

This was a time of change and upheaval in my life. From a warm, unpretentious family, and a village school, I was sent to a smart boarding school for ‘gels’. It was a case of sink or swim at the age of 13. What I felt set me apart was my Scottish accent, which made me feel like a crow among larks. I decided to keep my head down, to listen and learn, and try to keep up with the bells and time tables that regulated all our lives.

Derek

Derek watched as his new neighbour climbed from behind the wheel of his Nissan Bluebird and made his way up the drive to his front door, his fat fucking wife and three – three! – f***ing teenage kids in tow.

Chocolate

Charlie scrubs at the plate until it is spotless; then scrubs some more. She wants to remove all traces of the chocolate cake , hoping the scrubbing will eradicate the calories from her body, her lack of will power from her mind and the longing for the next treat from her mouth.

Tomorrow is another day, she told herself. I won’t have any more chocolate. Not ever. Not in any form.

Murder Next Door

The detective inspector strutted around the scene of the crime, her head jerking backwards and forwards as she walked.

The body lay stricken in front of its pen with little sign of injury, its head lolling, beak open and eyes staring. DS Flight tried not to think how long it would be before the maggots would make those eyes disappear. She hated the way bodies were eaten from the ground upwards so you would think they were only just dead – until they were rolled over and nothing was left underneath.

The Angler

The Angler Albert skulked out of the house and headed for his favourite fishing spot; he was in no mood to meet anyone. When he arrived he forced his way angrily through a tangle of sedge and nettles towards the river. How could he have been so stupid? From his concealed pocket he took out the worn tobacco tin containing his tackle and placed it carefully on an area he had stamped flat; he didn’t want to lose that as well.