The Forgotten
The air was brittle with cold as we left the Highveld on a frigid July morning. Father ran a tight ship, so at exactly 04h00, we would smooth the static out of our hair and settle down for the 2 …
Category: Writing to Prompts
The Suitcase
Victoria chewed on a nail and looked down at the suitcase. Once she opened the lid, it meant there was no turning back. She dropped onto the bed next to it, her heavy skirts rustling softly. Trailing her long pale …
The Shopping List
Sherry knew she was an expert doodler. She could fill the margins of any page with unending drawings. Circles flowed into flowers, which became roses, which emerged as vines ringing the page like a free flowing frame. Her scribbles had …
Falling
It felt like it should be daytime but the lights were never turned off and the windowless rooms prevented any guessing. My mouth was sandy dry. My tongue felt like it was wrapped in rough cotton. I could smell his …
The Mistake
Nomzamo opened her eyes and sat up slowly, the bed groaned in complaint. Three small bodies shifted, aware that the source of warmth had left. She stood slowly, careful not to wake them. Despite the dark, she quickly located the …
What I don’t remember
“What I don’t remember is your ever saying thank you – for anything.” Izlena let this sentence drop into the air like a teaspoon of oil dropping into a hot pan. She waited for a reaction, as the oil would …
Writer’s confession
We have all seen the cartoon or movie version of the good angel – bad devil. The good angel is sweetly balanced on your right shoulder, all dressed in white, possibly wearing wings, a halo may be involved. The bad …
The Promise
My 45 year old eyes looked at the letter my 10 year old hand had written all those decades ago. I had been a studious boy with an odd love of punctuation and the letter was flooded with quotation marks, …
The towns you drive
Her first town was no more than a handful of businesses clustered around a cobbled main street. The chemist was on the one end and the green grocer was on the other, like bookends bracketing the village. Verdant green meadows …
You are such a liar
“You are such a liar”, hissed Angus, glaring at his little sister. Ailsa was primly perched on the wide window seat, a piece of shortbread delicately balanced in her small white hands. Mrs. Ainsley drew in her breath, carefully replaced …