Beauty is in the Flesh

Genre: Disturbing/Dark

150 words

 

 

 

Beauty is in the Flesh

 

I stare, move my head from side to side and ponder that this is a new angle from which I have never seen my beauty.

Perhaps if I kiss this mirror my reflection will be me, as I am, so very pretty.

I kneel and I kiss.

I close my eyes excited to see that me, I change the way I am looking in this shiny object.

I take a breath and….

I look ugly! Why is this not showing my beauty?!

“Mommy”!!

She’ll come running in a moment to me, me who is her little, beautiful princess.

“Mommy, this mirror I look ugly in, why Mommy?”

Then she explains that what I see is the reflections fault and that I am indeed pretty and beautiful.

Mommy always makes me feel better.

I stand up to go back into the house. But first I must do something.

I cough, and then at the horrid mirror, I spit my phlegm.

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VisDare 75: Enamoured. Pop over here for weekly photo prompts! photo source here

Long Gone

Genre: Tragedy

100 words

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright-Roger Bultot

 

Long Gone

 

We came back again. The van is still aged. The weeds intertwining with its machinery.

This wasn’t how we left it.

Have we aged too?

No.

We just can’t move on.

The damage to the side of the truck is still there. The crash, it killed us. So why can’t we move on?

Because we want our baby girl who’s not here with us, her mom and dad…..It must mean that she didn’t die like us.

When we find her, we can be at peace, and once more be a family.

We walk away defeated.

Tomorrow we try again.

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100 word Flash-Fiction over at Friday Fictioneers… here to view site & prompt. PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright-Roger Bultot

 

 

** I Have An Announcement **

Hi guys :)

I’m going into Hospital on Tuesday 19th August for a couple of weeks and then recuperating at home for roughly 6 weeks. (A routine Op and I will be fine!)

I cannot say for sure if I’ll be doing any writing in that time, though I like to think that I can! :) But If you don’t hear from me for a month, month 1/2, 2 months, you know that I haven’t disappeared off the face of the earth I’m just not up to writing, sadly….

……But, I am looking forward to putting my feet up watching Netflix & Amazon Prime!! ;)

Please don’t unsubscribe, I’m just resting and WILL be back as soon as possible!! :)

So to all you lovelies who visit my blog…. I shall see/hear y’all in a short a time as poss! :D

All be good now ;)

~ Love Vicky…. I’ll be back! xxx

 

 

 

 

 

Eye, Mouth & Lips,,, On Patrol

Genre: Poppycock!

 

71 08 August 03 2014

*Hello friends… Look at the photo well to notice its place in the story! ~ Vic :)

Eye, Mouth & Lips,,, On Patrol 

“Eye, what do you see over there? I can hear something coming”

“Which way Mouth?”

“You’re the one with the eye” said Lips. “Look left, then right, dumbass”

“I am not a dumbass I’ll have you know…I was getting some shut-eye – that’s sleep to you, stupid”.

“Okay you two, pack it in!”…

“Eye, just please take a look around for us”

“Okay, what do I see?”…

“Shit!!”

“What is it!?” both Lips and Mouth yelled.

“It’s that blooming Dog from up the street. We’re going to get soaked again.”

“Chill out Eye” Lips said shrugging her off. “He might just walk right past us like we’re invisible”

“Chill Out!!” Mouth yelled..”He pissed on us last time, or has your dumbass brain forgotten that?”

Eye was becoming very, very nervous. “Well what are we going to do Mouth?”

Mouth had no idea. All he could think was ‘God, please don’t let him urinate on us again‘.

“Okay. Lips, Eye: Stay as still as you can. Under no circumstances move. Just act normal like we are not here”

Too late. Lips couldn’t resist the temptation to poke his tongue out at the Dog as he was just about to pass.

The Dog stopped, rather peeved at Lips’ action.

“You effing idiot!” Screamed the other two.

And then, down poured the liquid right on top of them. “Hmmph” The Dog retorted and smugly continued his walk.

“This is gross, it went in my eye…

“Yeah I know, It went in my mouth…

“Well it went on my bloody tongue!! And now I have to swallow his bloody piss!”

Eye and Mouth chuckled. It served Lips right for being lippy and aggravating the Dog.

They left him and his moaning to it. Then closed and zipped their appendages shut for the remainder of the night.

Except for Lips of course, who prayed desperately for rain to come and wash clean his pee-soaked lips and tongue. 

God he hated that Dog!

 

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Sunday Photo Fiction

Thanks Al to another dose of fun! Every Sunday Al brings us a photo prompt to make of it what we want…It’s great fun! Click on the banner and you’ll find us there. Vic :)

Why I am a Bad Writer

I will tell you why I am a Bad Writer, and this was pointed out to me in an article which I read, and the guy who wrote it did not mince his words…. And there are a few reasons as to why I am labelling myself this ( and the article author is too ;) My piece here focuses on the words of my straight-talking friend – and there’s a funny bit too where I thought to myself “You’re a fine one to talk” which I’ll mention in a bit.

So, first on the list is:

Number 1: Procrastination

Anyone felt this? – I’m sure a few of you may have just said ‘Yes’ to that. That is my worst habit and makes me ‘My Own Worse Enemy’. I’m thinking too that it may tie in with my crippling self-doubt, but I can’t really use that as an excuse, and I’ll tell you why: Because I Love to write, simple as that. The story I just wrote titled ‘She Comes’ began with me being in a very low mood that did get reflected in the piece, but what came after hitting the ‘Publish’ button was interesting – my mood lifted considerably. I put that down to the following:

  • Expressing my mood using a fictional story
  • Great satisfaction in hitting ‘Publish’
  • That I accomplished something from start to finish
  • Interacting with others who are writing from the same prompt

These four things made a difference. If that is the case then… Why the heck am I not writing every day? Why have I not touched my WIP novel for weeks? And why am I not consistently writing on this blog of mine? Because, my friends, I Procrastinate. And according to article buddy, that makes me a bad writer, and, before anyone jumps to my defence, I agree with him, it is an awful trait especially for a writer:

The second thing he mentioned was also this:

Number 2: Not Enough Networking

I have had in the pipeline a blog post to write on the importance of Networking, yet I am guilty of not doing it enough – it’s true. My main SN ( Social Network ) is Google+, I’m on it, I’ve made friends, I’ve joined ‘Writing Communities’ but I don’t go on G+ enough… and that hacks me off ( back to the ‘Own Worse Enemy’ again ). There are some great, great people who are in my circles – mostly other writers – and I get given advice and support: But do I check in everyday to connect with those I follow and who follow me? No. And I am furious with myself for that. So my blunt article writer pointed that flaw out too.

   See, I fell into writing, it wasn’t a hobby as such, more of an interest, and I haven’t been writing long, but it’s only in the last 6 months that the light bulb has come on and I see clearly that it is even more than a hobby, I simply  love to write and it now is a major part of my life. But, But, But… Not doing the above two things is hindering me – I’m hindering my progress as well and my growth as a writer… And that’s not good. A writer friend once said to me after a passionate email I wrote to him regarding writing; and he said to me, “Victoria, if you weren’t serious about being a writer, you wouldn’t be so hung up about this subject”…. So the desire, passion, love of it is there…

On a positive note, and coming back to the article writer, I am doing some things right:

I Read A Lot

This chappy said that any writer who is worth their salt must, must, read, and not just the same genres you like, but to venture out and sample all: Now that point does go in my favour – I do read a variety of genres, not just that but lots of different writing styles too, and I do feel I am learning something new all the time plus getting immense enjoyment,( ahem…depending on the story and author of course ). But, as I dip into it all, that’s a tick on matey’s list.

The one that made me laugh was the subject of…

Typos, Grammar, Spelling, Punctuation, etc…

Yes, those are important – highly – and me personally, I work hard on spotting errors before I publish… I’m not perfect in this area, but I do my best. But this guy, geez, he had mistakes in more than one place – the words “That’s Rich” came to mind.

To wrap up….

Writing can be hard, I know I’m not the only one who struggles – unless you are Stephen King and Patti Larsen who can knock out books in a month, but I digress – so is it just a simple, plain old case of getting priorities in order? It probably is, that and a hefty dose of:

  • Motivation
  • Discipline
  • Habit Forming
  • Being Brave

If those are there then there wouldn’t be so many issues for me, maybe for you. Though, at this moment in time – I Am a Bad Writer!

I hope you enjoyed my post, leave me a comment in the box below, I’m really interested to hear your thoughts and lets all work on what each of our individual handicaps are and see if we can improve them!

All the best,

Victoria :)

 

 

She Comes

Genre: Supernatural 

 

 

She Comes

 

She has finally come for me. I know now that the day I’ve avoided 10,000 years has arrived.

There she stands speaking with her simple stare.

She penetrates in to me, reflecting back what my soul is.

I am trying to place a psychic barrier between us: She breaks through with ease. I place a white light around me: She still remains.

I thought I was immortal, but for that one good deed I done, this is my punishment.

I should have let my Sister die.

We live to maim, to kill, to destruct, to curse all we meet: We are the Evil Ones.

Yet for eternity I will suffer every wrong deed I have done to others – but each and every single one 10 times its fold… Over and over again.

As I mentally accept my fate, The Black Eyed Angel she swoops down on me and I am pulled to Hell:

I should have let my Sister die.

 

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Thank You Angela Goff (website here) for this weeks corker of a photo (source here) in our Wednesday VisualDare, this week it’s #72: Rejection! Lots of fun as always; any writers out there, check out her site to catch the weekly Photo Challenge, it’s always a creative picture I can assure you!!

And if you liked my story, please do let me know what you think, where I went wrong – or right! – and give me a little like if it was a pleasing/intriguing/________? read! Thanks and good wishes!! :) <3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, Where We Belong

Genre: Mysticism & Fantasy

A sweet tale of Magic and Mysticism! I hope you enjoy it!

 

Credit: Favim

Now, Where We Belong

 

It had been years since she had played, or maybe it was days? Shaking the momentary confusion out from her mind, Sophia Maxwell-Bell ran her long, slender hand along the wooden edges of the piano as she circled it, eyes transfixed. She lifted her head to the skies, closed her eyes and breathed a full amount of fresh,crisp morning dewy air into her lungs relishing every second, the smile not leaving her face. “Oh, it feels great to be alive” Sophia thought as she returned her gaze back down to the piano.

She didn’t know where she was.

“Sophia, Sophia!” The draggled sounds of her acquainted friend called out to her.

“Here Manuel, I am by the beautiful piano”.

Manuel staggered towards her clearly in much pain as he almost dragged his left leg to follow the other. Had he been stabbed? Shot by an arrow? Sliced by the paw of a bear? “Manuel, Manuel, what happened to you?”

“The men Sophia, they saw me, they know where I am hiding. Please, it is no longer safe, we must go.”

Looking around, shushing her friend, Sophia listened for the men that Manuel were talking about. She heard nothing. And got straight to work on the damage done by whatever it was to Manuel’s leg. Tearing cotton from her hem, using the clean dewy moisture from leaves cleaning the flesh then carefully bandaged above it to stop any blood from being lost. She could see Manuel’s shock and took the brandy from his back pocket and made him sip before she poured a little onto the wound to disinfect. All the while pleading he muffled his sounds of agony.

In hushed whispers they talked, Sophia first, “These men, who are they?”

“They are the scavengers of the dead – The Soul Preyers – and we are in great danger, we must, must get going before they find me, us, here, we must go, now!”.

Sophia hauled Manuel to his feet, steadying him as he tested the weight of his pained leg, he could walk, all but wincing as they stepped towards the thickest part of the forest. They would seek refuge with The Mage, and hide from the scavengers that were craving their bones and coming for their souls.

Manuel’s leg was slowing them down, Sophia took regular stops to listen for they Preyers and when she was sure, they would move on, that being the only times of rest.

The Moon now was high in the sky shining its brilliance over the forest, and that’s when they heard the sound: It was the bone-chilling howl of their persecutors, they were gaining space on them, they had to hurry. Manuel and Sophia hurried their steps. “It’s not far now” Manuel spoke gasping for air, “Through those trees, just there, see? When we get there – we must hurry – I will alert the Mage of our coming and he will give us safe shelter”.

Obeying his word Sophia focused hoping they had enough time before they were seen. Entering the thicket, manoeuvering past gnarled branches that shot out like daggers, scratching both their flesh, they finally stopped as they reached its other side.

A short man, a very short man, gestured fervently with his arms motioning them to quicken their step and to follow him. He lifted his arms and swept the air; the trees obeyed him, parted,  and they went through. With a last mumble of words, the opening was closed. “Sit, sit down, my friends, I shall bring what I need to repair our friends wound. And of course Tea for you my dear”. The Mage stepped through a heavy, velvet red curtain that hung from the top of this ‘place’ – whatever this place was, and he was gone.

The place was like a cove, small and circular. They both sat at a simple round wooden table with three stools, “An odd number” Sophia thought. And there were rugs across the earthen floor, a fire burning on the opposite side where a large, comfortable seeming armchair sat, on its arms a pile of books. Sophia breathed in and took in the aroma and scent of the cove, it put a smile on her face as the warmth and safety enveloped her ; She made the right decision to allow Manuel to bring them here.

She hadn’t heard the Mage return, but he came equipped with a folded cloth in one hand and a cup of tea in the other that he sat delicately in front of her motioning to drink while he unfolded the cloth on the table. Without looking up from his wares he softly spoke to Manuel “They can smell your wound, we must hurry to heal the torn flesh”. With that he helped Manuel’s painful leg upon his seat and got to work on the torn calf with his magic. He poured, he sprinkled, he dabbed and with a final press of his hand, when it was lifted, the wound had vanished leaving not even a streak.

“Now”, he caught both of their attention, “You must now go to where you belong” Sophia felt a surge of sullenness. The Mage continued. “It’s been 600 years since you passed away my dear, that is why the soul hunters are appearing now. Your time is up” Sophia’s brow was creased trying to figure out what he was saying to her.

The Mage swept his arm to hs right and a large silver, shining portal he opened. He took Sophia’s hand in both of his and gently spoke. “Your loved ones are waiting, my dear, there, you need to go to them, 600 years is a long time in this netherworld. You too Manuel” His focus now on him. “Them, ‘The Preyers’, have come to collect your souls as bounty and they will not stop looking until they find you both. They now have your contract”. Sensing their confusion the mage decided to call forth their most precious loved ones through the portal – each of their spouses. They both stood and hurried towards their beloveds. “Is this true?” Sophia asked her dear husband who simply nodded. “But why? Why have I been here for this long?” He gently whispered to her that all will be explained once she steps through with him.

Suddenly, the sound of thunder and lightning broke the gentleness that was. “Go! You must go, now! They have found you! There is no time, Go!”.

The Mage hurried around casting spells and creating magic to disrupt the seekers. Out of concern Sophia took his hand “But, Mage, they know where you live, you will be harmed!” The Mage smiled warmly at her. “Go, my dear, Manuel, you too” And with that the Mage disappeared as well as all the familiarities of his cove. Sophia turned to her beloved, they had a fraction of a second to leave before The Preyers claimed their bounty. She looked across at her friend Manuel and smiled. He smiled back. And with that they both took each of their partners hands and jumped through the portal.

The Portal closed just as The Preyers entered the Mage’s cove.

For now, at least, the Portal will remain closed. But only for as long as another wondering, lost soul needs it opened up once again and helped safely back to the Other Side where they belong.

* * *

The Piano Photo prompt from the site of Kellie Elmore’s ‘Free Write Friday’

Modern Day Fairy Tale

“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.”                 -C.S. Lewis

FWF_fairy-tale

Find that magical place in your world…and live there.

~

Once upon a time there was a rather sad, unhappy and fearful child who only ever had one wish – to be older. She didn’t like being a child, she didn’t like how she was being treated and the way they spoke to her, ignored her or talked in whispers about her. All this girl wanted was to be old enough, just like them, so she would be free.

One day she decided to cast a spell, one she’d read in a spell book. She wrote down her one desire, spoke some kind of chant and buried the ripped up pieces of paper into the ground hoping one day her dream would come true. This was the only other wish she had:

A wish for the perfect man (spell-casting at age 8).

Years went by, each as bad as, if not worse than the previous year. This little girl, from a young age knew one thing for certain and only that one thing – life will never be kind to her. So, on instinct – survival instinct – she did what she had to do to survive.

After a series of unpleasant and disastrous events, the now 34-year-old child was ready for change as she had it up to her eyeballs of the way she was being treated. So, she made one tough choice to break free and make something of her life….And then the fairy-tale began, or so she thought.

Mr.Right finally showed himself and there was so much love between them, they were the two happiest pair going. But, they got caught. He was sent on leave and they were never to speak to and see each other again; it broke both their hearts in two. She no longer cared or felt fear of even dying. Morbid yes, but she was through with her life and the one thing, bringing so much happiness into her life, was taken away from her. That was when the nightmare begun.

Over time, twists and turns exposed themselves – no-one had her back, except for the man she loved. But still, the strain got to him too and bitterness, anger, resentment, pain and frustration began taking over both of them. Fate had played them a hard hand: Fate too had also given them the biggest gift of their lives –  one another.

Will they get past all that stand in their way? Yes. Will the nightmare be ever over? Yes. Why? Because they have three things in common: Unbreakable Love; Unwavering trust; And a strength that is beyond measure. Many have tried to break them apart and failed – there’s not much left these two can have thrown at them. They are in Love. Therefore, they will then, live happily ever after!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This story was created with the aid of the FWF ‘Free Write Friday’ prompt from the dear Kellie Elmore  <3

The Evil That Finds Me

Hi all, sorry it’s been a while – I live in an Amusement Park!

Here’s a tale that just might make you think, a little maybe! ;)

VisDare

VisDare 69: Vigilant

Thank you Angela for another cracking picture prompt! (source here).

* * * * *

 

The Evil That Finds Me

 

I’m hanging on to every breath I take, the beating of my heart pounding in my chest.

I can hear their howls, the demonic noises coursing through my blood, fracturing my bones.

I cannot make a sound.

I cannot move until I hear them at a distance. I need to get back, and return quick to my own realm, not this, not theirs, not this….

I hear a sound, my breath holds. Then a hand grabs me, yanking me with its force to my knees, until I am at its foot.

“Little, light one” it snarls down on me. I cannot look. This is it. Me. I’m theirs.

Thunder booms and cracks like fire and ice. The Heaven I know begins to fade, leaving me, I cannot control…

What?

The air begins to glisten.

The Demon releases its grip. It screams, piercing my ears with so much pain, then its last breath is gone .

I am being gently pulled. Back, back toward the light, back toward my realm.

Angels cradle all around me. I am back!

Back behind that very thin line: That thin line which separates good and evil.

Forever, I shall now tread very carefully.

 

* * *

 

 

 

A Dangerous Game

VisDare

Here’s another one of Angela’s great photo prompts, enjoy the story!

VisDare68: Precarious

A Dangerous Game

Philip Smith was approaching the Final of the Grand Master Chess tournament and he needed to win the money, bad.

“Hello Mr. Smith, I’ve come to help you. My name, Sir, is Diablo.”

Philip sold his soul in exchange for a different perspective on his upcoming match to defeat his opponent. The other guy was good and Philip needed to see through his competitors strategy to ensure the prize money would be his.

(My friends, look at the photo – That was the new perspective Diablo had given him).

“Okay! I give up my ability to play Chess at all, Diablo, as long as you return my perspective to me”

Diablo granted the request. Philip returned, right-side up. And he also played in the Chess final… But he won.

He did not understand how that was possible, until he checked his bank balance. No money from the win was in there.

Diablo appeared…

“Where is my money!”

The Devil smiled.

“Did you honestly believe you could bargain with me?”

“I said I’d lose my ability to play Chess!” Philip screamed.

“Yes, that’s right, you did…. But your soul? You should have asked for me to return that to you instead”

Philip then realized, he had played his last, final game.

And lost.

* * *