Jan 29, 2014


Visual Dare #46

She ran her fingers over the smooth wood, shifting the shapes, her face still as she immersed herself in the movement of the shadows until finally his shape emerged.  The remembrance of his infectious happiness pinched her eyes with sadness and she longed to stand in his wake once more, to feel even a breath of love or security.  If only she had kept up, or waited beyond the hedge like he'd said, she wouldn't have fallen through that hole, and been left behind in this wilderness.  She watched the pale light seep through the silhouettes, guilt building over the regrets until she lashed out at the marionettes, splintering the silent figures.  She stood over them, the fading light falling into darkness and leaving her truly alone.  Maybe this circle of destruction would never have begun.

Youth - Daughter

a story you don't know,
and is only just unfolding.
from sjp

Jan 27, 2014


if only for one night,

It follows me everywhere, the trees have come into my home, the ivy creeps across the wallpaper to brush against me at night, my feet are blackened by dirt and hands scratched by the roots.  I cannot escape it, I am driven to the depths of despair by this relentless onslaught, never a moment of peace.  I cannot leave the house for fear of even the slightest breath of wind stirring their life blood.  I have taken what refuge I can yet even that is not enough, they yearn and follow until I find myself trapped in isolation, nothing but a crazed nature of wilderness surrounding me for miles, this cold stone of my likely tomb the only comfort.  The only thing that keeps them away at night are my tears.

I tried to keep them out, imprisoned myself in this tomb, and yet they prevail, they grow beneath me, uprooting my tower from its foundations until I fear its collapse is imminent.  Are they so deranged as to risk my life to reach me?

I pray every waking second for someone to show me an end to this plight, to avail me of this curse.  I would beg of even a minute of human contact, an embrace of something more than living, to hear a voice...

I cannot wait any longer, they cannot take me, I am my own and I wish it to end.  The tower is beyond its strength to uphold, I will fall from its warped lean at sun-up and crash below to lay one last time in the light.  My only hope is someone will find my broken body in time and not leave it to these monsters.  At least they will never have my soul.

Gizelle wiped the tears from her chin before they could fall to the parchment and stain her last words.  Folding it tightly and sealing it with a last desperate kiss she watched it flutter from her window, the hope of discovery such an aching pain that it wrought her heart and brought more silent tears from her eyes.  Sinking to the crooked stone she lay back against the tilted wall and watched a skeletal tree scratch against the ceiling.  It had surrendered its greenery just to be closer to her, soon it would pay the price and rot, but she could tell it had been a price worth paying, and it chilled her with that ever present fear that had never dulled over the years.

She thought of the night she had felt she were free, she had run, run until nothing was familiar, not even the sky.  Through the darkness she had found this tower, what was left of something older and climbed a stunted tree to reach its peak.  Yet it all followed and soon even the fauna around her began to turn, that tree a constant reminder of the damage this curse had caused.

She was a seed being suffocated by the giants around her.

the power of a note,
there is hope yet.
from sjp

Jan 24, 2014

18 Truths

To celebrate the release of the second installment 18 Truths by Jamie Ayres, we're playing that old game of two truths one lie ;) can you pick mine?

  1. I went ten pin bowling in Japan when I was fifteen.
  2. I played the drums in my friends ska band until I broke my set.
  3. I was in an accident involving a carnival ride crash.

Hit the link to check out some wicked prizes on offer, and join in the second guessing fun times :)

from sjp

Jan 12, 2014


Pt I Vacant - Something I wrote for a Visual Dare,
but didn't think was ready,
so silly.

Three days they had been wandering in silence.  Three days of guilt and regret twisting his insides, reality taunting him with its brutal truth scarring his vision and her heart.  Channer had resorted to biting his lip every time his gaze strayed to hers, to hold back the apology that threatened to spill forth at the sight of the sorrow in her eyes, the faltering tears that shamed him, made him want to fall at her feet and beg forgiveness, for not being able to stop it.

For not being able to save them.

Three days it took them to find anyone.

"Staring at her isn't going to give her peace boy," A solemn voice interrupted his thoughts, he absentmindedly accepted a cup of water from the no-nonsense woman standing beside him, trying to watch his surroundings less obviously.

But it was all too surreal, feeling cast out upon the tundra, pitifully gathering together like refugees, he wasn't sure if he could stand another group prayer where they lined salvaged chairs like some make believe church.  She was the only thing that mattered anymore; now that everything had disappeared, he would wander these hills forever, to correct his mistakes, to give her a life back.

Part I - Daybreak

Ready for part II?
or want to taste a different story?
from sjp.

Jan 1, 2014


I was not eagerly awaiting the arrival of the new year, although it had many ups and downs I loved 2013.  I came into my own last year, and was worried about what this one would have to offer, could I do it all again?

So here's a resolution - 2014 - it's time to take things seriously.

I know I declare this often, basically every second IWSG post really, but over the past year I have accumulated around 30,000 words, not even counting what was posted here.  It's not a NaNo achievement sure, but that's 30,000 words of random pinterest inspired ramblings and flash fiction, 30,000 words across a dozen different stories waiting to be pieced together, 30,000 words waiting to be published.

Considering I treat this life as an indulgence, a hobby, something I do when I'm in the mood, when everything else doesn't get in the way... I'm pretty proud of every single word. It's weird how a little bit of flash here and there can add up.

Because in the end, this means so much more than just stringing words together, something to pass the time.  It's not a hobby or an indulgence, it's my passion, right up there with music and icecream.

I will prove it, and I will earn it, and I will keep making those words worth reading.  I hope everyone who has enjoyed this place continues to do so, and know every comment, every criticism is so deeply appreciated.

It's time to let these stories unfold.

Bring on 2014,
from sjp
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