Today’s task was to talk of fears, in a style distinct from my own. So in taking a break from my seemingly endless sentences I have crammed ten full stops into just fifty three words…
My blood had chilled. It was flowing around my body in an icy haze. He was taunting me. I was petrified.
He could read every sign. Of course he could. You don’t miss much with eight eyes.
I was minding my own business. He invaded my peripheral. Now we were at a standoff.
Remembering childhood again thanks to The Daily Post…
As I have been caught amidst a whirlwind of weddings and autumn colds I have decided to combine the last two assignments with this one vignette. The task was to describe a favourite meal from childhood, and a childhood home. So here is fruit pastilles and a house at the side of the forest…
Blades of grass erupted from the ground beside the doorway and continued as linear soldiers across endless metres until the forest floor interrupted them with mud. At the bottom of this greenery a colossal mass of trees extended into the daunting never-end.
Her bedroom window offered a viewfinder into the mysterious world that loomed at the end of the garden. By moonlight the world whispered an infinite abyss of darkness in return. Her four foot frame would fit cosily within the nook of the windowsill. Her nose would turn pink pressed against the cool glass, puffing winged steam trails with every exhale. In her pockets she would find week old fruit pastilles bought by the father she missed. They granted sweet comfort as she held them on her tongue, sucking the sugar crystals, prolonging their life for as long as possible.
She would find flickers of movement. Watching her watching them. Until she would turn off the lights and let the darkness envelop.