Escape

Valley_road_(2446021340)There was something intoxicating about it, the thrill of the open road. An empty bottle of whisky lay next the him in the car, dulling his senses so that he barely felt the wind rushing through his thinning hair. It was lucky for him that the particular escape route he had found was so remote that nobody else was on the road, or he would have been dead half an hour ago, along with whoever else had been unfortunate enough to be sharing the road with him.

The backdrop would have been breathtaking for anyone more aware of their surroundings. The road snaked through the desert in desperates search of water and the mountains behind him pierced the blue sky, an almost laughably grand feature in an otherwise desolate landscape.

The cherry-red Camaro tore through this picturesque scene, carrying its passenger towards his destination, wherever that was. He was a passenger in his own life, for his destination was as unknown to him as it had been to those he had left behind. And besides, how could anyone with almost as much alcohol in their bloodstream as water possibly claim to be in control of their own senses?

All he knew was that he had to drive. He couldn’t even remember what it was that had made him snap, the darkness had swallowed up the last 36 hours and erased them from his memory, but it had been the final straw that had smashed his boring fucking life into a million pieces. Canvas bag, whisky, car keys, nothing else, not even a phone. There was no way back now, there was blood on his hands, whether he knew it or not, and the devastation he had left in his wake would haunt him for years to come, if he ever cared to remember.

Shoutout as ever to Laura Feasey, and her Literary Lion: Escape prompt.

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Sleep: Poetry Rehab 101

Poppy2004Sleep now, little one
In your makeshift cradle.

No blanket to warm you,
Only Belgian mud
caked on your clothes
to keep out the cold.

So peaceful, like you didn’t
feel a thing,
when the shell fell down,
ending your fitful waking hours.

No.

Too young to imagine
You are gone forever.

I’ll see you again,
I know.
But not yet, not yet.

When we both awake,
in some other, better place.
When our fight is over,
and the war is done.

Then shall we two meet again.

Sleep now, little one,
though you’ve not
seen enough of this world.

You’ve earned your rest.

Shoutout to Mara Eastern and her Poetry 101 Rehab as always.

Into the Woods

Woodland_English_Autumn_SunlitIt made such a difference to him, the quiet. Here, he had only the breeze for company, the breeze and his thoughts. Silence had always been his saviour; this was where he came to contemplate life, but for once he couldn’t bring himself to do so, couldn’t bring himself to process what had just happened.

He strained his ears to listen, desperate for some sudden rustle in the branches to distract him, to take him away from the inside of his own head; even the sound of falling pine needles would have been enough. But he knew none would come. He had chosen these woods for a reason, all those years ago when he had first been looking for somewhere to clear his head, and that sacred silence he had craved was now betraying him.

He regretted coming here. He’d arrived at the spot in a haze of numbness, driving as much on instinct as anything else, but now, hours later, that was all beginning to fade. Now what he’d done was beginning to come into sharp focus, and he couldn’t bear it.

He wasn’t ready to be alone with his thoughts yet, and here he was surrounded by nothing but a dark void that sucked sound from all around it. Doubts screamed at him from every angle, mocking him in a cacophonous chorus of disapproval, accusing him of what he could not bear to believe.

He rushed back to his car and sparked the ignition, just to add some noise, any noise, to silence the voices in his head. No, not the voices, it was his own voice alone, and he knew it was right.

Distracted, he didn’t notice the flashlights emerge from behind him, the noise of footsteps coming towards the car covered by the sound of his engine. The first he knew of them was the tap on the window to get him to turn his head, just enough for his pursuers to make sure they had the right man.

The sound of the shot erupted into the air, tearing through the nocturnal idyll and finally breaking the pact of silence he had held with the woods, the pact that had protected him for so long. Darkness descended once more, and with it, the quiet he had once craved. Those woods the only witness to his fate, and they would never speak.

Shoutout to Laura Feasey and her Literary Lion: Into The Woods prompt.

Poetry Rehab 101: Away

Walking_away_from_the_Third_World

Away

Away, away
Have to find a way
To express how
I feel when you’re
Not here.

Away.

Such an innocent
Sounding little word
But the source
Of so much pain in
This world.

Away!

Absent fathers,
Missing mothers,
Children gone,
Friends forgotten and
Loved ones lost.

Away.

Don’t go,
Stay here
With me.
We’ll face
The fear
Together.
Don’t go

Away.

Once again, shoutout to Mara Eastern, who organises these wonderful prompts.

Freestyle Writing Challenge: Knots

So, I’m not normally one for the whole nominating others for things, especially the awards that go around, but this seemed too much like an actual challenge for me to turn down. The story is this, today Inquisitive Minds And Stubborn Hearts nominated me for a freestyle writing challenge, and you can find me effort below. It’s not the way I normally write, so I decided to take him up on his challenge, and will be challenging several other bloggers below.

Knots

There are things in our lives
that tie us down,
knots that stop us
from following
those dreams

that we had when we were young.

The way to deal with them
is simple and plain.

Don’t waste your precious time
untangling the labyrinthine threads
that, snakelike,
bite when
you try to untangle.

Instead, as the Great Alexander,
Take the path of least resistance.

Raise your sword high,
cut through those Gordian ropes
and cast them aside.

Then, and only then the
chains can fall away

And you can crown yourself
King or Queen of your own life,
Your own destiny,
As that great king of old.

Time: 7 minutes
Words: 107

So there we have it, my first ever timed free write, which was something that I enjoyed a lot, though it was certainly challenging and not my best work. I’ll nominate some people below, but first, here are the rules.
RULES
1) Open an MS Word document (or any other editor)
2) Set a stop watch or your mobile of 5-10 minutes.
3) Your topic is at the foot of this post, DO NOT SCROLL DOWN TO SEE IT UNTIL YOU ARE READY WITH A TIMER.
4) Fill the word document with as much words as you want. Once you began writing do not stop.
5) Do not cheat by going back and correcting spellings and grammar with spell check (it is only meant for you reflect on your control on sensible thought flow)
6) You may or may not pay attention to punctuation and capitals.
7) At the end of your post write down the number of words
8) Do not forget to copy paste the entire passage on your blog post with a new topic.

Nominations Below is a list of five people that I would love to see attempt this challenge as I think they would provide really differing approaches to the prompt word. Obviously, I completely understand if you have no interest in doing this sort of challenge, but yeah, would love to see you attempt it.

Stumbling For Balance
Listen To The Babe
Trimmed Words
Mara Eastern
In Noir Velvet

Prompt Word: Skin

Right, that’s me done, and you won’t hear me bothering anyone else any time soon, this one just caught my attention as being particularly interesting. Hope you enjoyed it.

Space

1600px-Night_Sky_Stars_Trees_02
A response to Literary Lion. Space.

She gazed up, transfixed by the beauty of what she beheld. This was the first time she had been away from the city, and the way the light danced from above bewitched her. It was as if each star were telling her its own story in some unsolvable Morse code, twinkling an indecipherable message down at her as she gawped upwards, forgetting why they had come there in the first place.

‘Emily’, the hiss came across the moor, breaking the spell that the stars had cast upon her, reminding her of her pressing purpose. She took the shovel and broke the virgin soil, hacking away at nature’s creation and dropping her secrets inside the hole she had rapidly dug. What better place to get rid of her problems than a part of the world where the sky inspires you to never look down?

The stars had their stories all right, but she would have some of her own to tell, when the time finally came.