Wednesday 17 October 2018


Welcome to #WEPFF - Write...Edit...Publish October Challenge - Deja Vu or Voodoo

Welcome writers! Are you ready for a spooky challenge?

OCTOBER is the month for screams and chills, ghosts and ghoulies, mystery and fear, and this month’s prompt is DÉJÀ VU OR VOODOO!.

Here is my entry –


The wind blows through the trees as her bare feet graze the cushioned carpet of bluebells, her hair whips around her face, sticking to her lips with their protective covering of lip salve on them.  The breeze lessens slightly as she walks in to the lee of the *copse.  The air hangs and hovers, a feeling of peace envelopes her, stilling her mind, calming her heart.  She becomes one with the earth, grounding herself in to the soil.  The smell of the bark on the trees, the iron musky odour of moist undergrowth assails her nostrils. She breathes even deeper, ingesting the power of the ancient world. 

She touches the gnarled bark of the closest tree with her finger tips, lightly running them over the contours.  She loves the tactile feel of the living plant, her palm caresses the roughness of the wood, sunlight filters through the upper branches and bathes the ground in dappled splashes of yellow.

Her heart starts to beat faster as a battle of men against beasts begins. Spears are flung.  They find their mark grievously wounding a wild animal.  A horde of men dismember the flesh, tasting the warm inner organs, a delicacy, thanking the gods for the bounty they have had the fortune to receive.  The hunters prepare to remove the carcass ready to transport it to their womenfolk.  The meat, once prepared, will feed their tribe for many days.

She places her other hand round the side of the tree, pressing her body against the girth of the tree, too wide in diameter for her fingers to meet.  Through her thin garments she becomes aware of another scene.  This time she witnesses the birth of a young child and her heart is filled with joy and love.  She feels the pride of the father, the love of the mother and the relief from the helpers in the tent.   It is a precious boy, a long awaited male who will take his rightful place, in due course, as the leader of the clan.  A few minutes later the bonny, baby boy emerges through the leather flaps and is held aloft by his father.  The baby opens his eyes as the sunrise peaks over the hilltop.  The encampment let out a great cheer, he is their hope for the future.

She presses her cheek against the bark, it scratches her, marking her skin.  She pulls back, recoiling at the sudden shock of the pain.  Where did the peace go?

Stepping back she looks around her.  There.  Movement at the edge of the wood.  The shrill notes of a mobile phone disturbs the air, discordant, dissonance sounds, a baritone voice answers the insistent instrument.

‘I’ve found her.  Yes, I’ll bring her back to the car, don’t worry, she’ll be fine.’

Michael steps in to the line of her vision, he holds out his hand, encouraging her with a smile to come forward in to his embrace. 

Jane shakes her head.  ‘I’m not ready,’ she whispers, ‘I need more time.’

Michael pulls her gently away from the tree, lifting her up, supporting her as he strokes her arms, strokes her hair. He pushes strands of her hair behind her ears, kisses her forehead.  ‘I’ll stay with you.  You know I love you so much my darling.  I’ll always love you but you know we need to get back.  The doctor is waiting for you.’

Jane nods in acknowledgement.  They think she needs help.  They think she is going mad, maybe she is but she knows what she feels is true.  She does see things.  She does feel things.  Michael thinks all he has to do is to love her more each day and she will get better.

She knows his love will help her to find peace, she knows she will love him until the end of her days.
Another vision fills her mind.  It is too abstract to make any sense of.  She starts to tell Michael she needs to go back to the tree.  His hold is firm on her arm as he leads her to the car park.  He seats her gently and straps her in.   The seat belt is strangling her, she desperately pulls the webbed strap becoming more and more agitated. 

She wants to go back.  She wants to feel calm.  She want to feel peaceful.  She wants to feel love surrounding her.

The doctor greets them both at the entrance to the home.  He welcomes Jane with his kindly demeanour.  He knows how hard this is for her and for Michael.  A nurse settles her in her room as Jane curls in to the foetal position on her bed.  Michael’s tears flow while he watches his wife succumb to the drugs the medical profession deem necessary to bring her back to an ordinary life.

Unknown voices always in my ear
Is that what I hear?
Visions in my head
Is that what I read?

Dreams that disturb my nights
Such ugly sights, such pretty sights
Remembering in the morning
As the fresh day is dawning

Troubles to leave behind
Answers still to find
From the depths of my mind
As yet to be divined.

Searching and seeking my soul
Looking for the loophole
Caught inbetween, stuck in limbo
Is it a friend or foe?

A feeling of peace envelops me
Calmness wraps me warmly
As my angel sits among the flowers
Slowing down each minute of each hour

Will this fog ever lift?
Can I use my gift?
They don’t believe me
They treat me like a baby
They think I behave badly
They can’t let me be

He can’t let me free
He is so loyal and true
He loves me with all his soul
We’ve tried parole
I end up back here
Never to be free
Every year
I still hear
The voices in my head
They invade my sleep
As I weep
Tears of frustration
Unable to take action

*copse – A small group of trees, thicket, grove, wood.

Word count: 991 - NCCO

Wednesday 15 August 2018


Welcome to #WEP - Write...Edit...Publish AUGUST Challenge -- CHANGE OF HEART

Hello there beloved writers!

It's time for our AUGUST challenge, CHANGE OF HEART.

This month, we welcome writers from the IWSG (Insecure Writers Support Group) who are joining the challenge. Some are already regulars and I'm hoping many more will become part of the WEP team as well.

Here is my entry:


The cold crispness of the air

Matched her feelings of despair

Black and white no colour to be seen

Stark and bare it was obscene

When would life become bearable again?

It was such a nightmare;

She was caught in a snare

Trapped, frightened, scared, low

Caught as a doe

In the headlights, frozen

On the horizon a light, a beacon

She wanted a dream

She didn’t want to scream

How many days, months or years

When would they stop falling, her tears

Her constant companion in the dark days

Never ending, never ceasing, a black haze

She would shake and shiver

Not with pleasure.

Gradually, oh so gradually

The thaw began slowly

Month by month, day by day, week by week

Trickling back in to her thoughts, she began to speak

To say out loud

To become proud

To stand up tall

She would not fall

Down to the depths, uncontrolled

Loosening the blindfold

The mist began to clear

She began to hear

Sights and sounds

Stopped spinning around

The cold, dark space

It wasn’t a race

Her therapist had said

She was afraid of what lay ahead

Her family strengthened her

Cuddled her, wrapped her in their care

With love and comfort she put one foot forward

And proceeded carefully toward

Building her life, as nature does every season

She would never know the reason

He was taken, his life over too soon.


The table was set, the fresh flowers smelt wonderful.  Alice smiled.  There was a time she thought she would never feel happy again. 

Everything was ready.  The doorbell rang, right on time her guests arrived. Kisses on cheeks given and received, a flurry of activity ensued as the ladies seated themselves, placing handbags on the floor, muting mobiles.  Then followed compliments about the table, admiration of the flowers on the table, the pretty tablecloth and the setting in Alice’s conservatory which was lovely and cool on this rather hot, summer’s day.  The blinds were drawn halfway down the glass to keep the sun from baking everyone, the atmosphere was convivial. 

Freshly made lemonade poured from a carafe, ice cubes added, tea plates and serviettes handed out.  Alice started slicing the home-made chocolate cake which was enjoyed by all with many complementary comments flowing from her friends.   Hmmm, delicious, it’s so moist, love the chocolate flakes on top, to name but a few of the murmurings.

She couldn't put it off any longer, it was now time for the informal writing group to get down to business.  It was Alice’s turn, as the hostess, to divulge her writing.  She’d chosen a piece she had written several years ago.  She had gone through her diaries and notepads and painstakingly typed her handwriting on to the computer, checked it for spelling mistakes, grammar, tenses and context.  A fight with the printer and a dash to the stationers to buy more ink for the mean-spirited machine at last enabled her to print out several copies.

While she was at the stationers she had purchased four folders.  She was taken with the pretty pattern on the A4 folders.  It had an empty birdcage, an ornate mirror, a teapot with a handle, spout and lid and a tea mug, all interspersed with bird on branches and pastel coloured simple flowers.  The design had really spoken to her, she was no longer held or imprisoned in a cage however gilded it might have been.  She was now free.  She was able to look at her reflection in the mirror without cringing at the image that stared back at her.  She could indulge in tea (and cake) whenever she wanted to. 

The branches with a bird perched on them showed her there was always a new life to be had. She could be like the bird and fly wherever she wanted to.  It meant freedom.

The group of ladies settled down, all sated with refreshments, they relaxed against the plumped up cushions.  Now came crunch time.  Alice’s heart started pounding, she was sure her blood pressure was rising as she passed a folder to each of her friends. 

Would they still be friends after they read her words?  Would they feel what she felt at that time?  Would they think it was over the top?  Would they actually realise it was based on fact and not fiction?  Should she tell them it was fact or should she lie and say it was pure fiction?

Alice disappeared to the kitchen and put the kettle on while she waited for her friends to finish reading and digesting, not only the food, but also the material she had written.

As she re-entered the conservatory holding a tray with the tea things on it she noticed her friends were all holding soggy tissues in their hands, hands that were dabbing at eyes, throats were being cleared from the lumps congealing in them. She placed the tray on the coffee table and looked up to see Lilian looking at her, followed by Daphne gazing at her with Anita joining in the collective stare.

Alice blushed as the heat rose up from her rib cage, covering her throat in a pink glow, moving up to her cheeks as her forehead glistened with a slight sheen.

Her three friends stood as one as they moved in unison to stand beside her. They enveloped her in their arms hugging her tightly.  Daphne placed a kiss on her brow, Anita rubbed her hand up and down her back while Lilian squeezed her hand in hers.

Oh it felt so good to have friends. 

It felt so good not to be judged. 

It felt so good to be loved. 

It felt so good to finally let it all go.

Word count:  960 - NCCO

Tuesday 19 June 2018

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Horizontal Line(s)

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Horizontal Line(s)

Friday 15 June 2018

Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Trains and Tracks

Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Trains and Tracks

Wednesday 13 June 2018

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Columns and Vertical Line(s)

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Columns and Vertical Line(s)

Friday 8 June 2018

Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Shoes or Feet (human or animal)

Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Shoes or Feet (human or animal)

This week the topic is 

Shoes or Feet (human or animal).

Here is my selection:

A bride's wedding shoes

A chocolate stiletto shoe

ceramic shoes

Knitted baby bootees

Fish eating feet 
- it was all the rage a few years ago

Sign on the wall of the shop

Wednesday 6 June 2018

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Arch, Dome or Half Circle

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Arch, Dome or Half Circle

This week the topic is 

Arch, Dome or Half Circle

Here is my selection for this week.