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