My Work

white room

Sometimes I am floating blissfully on a cloud, oblivious to my surroundings and the harsh truth of reality. Sometimes I am trapped in a surreal nightmare, shards of insanity shattering my mind. 

The fragments of glass framed the moon in its unearthly beauty. Wisps of smoke and cloud danced before it, phantoms in the breeze, to a haunting melody. Jagged buildings towered ominously over narrow roads, paved with stones the colour of ash.

territoris

worlds collide

Hazel shivered, the bitter night air creeping through her clothes, sinking to the pit of her stomach. The deserted streets echoed with the chorus of creaking doors and rustling leaves. 

I remember the times when I would work, hands raw and blistered, face burning from the scorching sun, hoping, desperately clinging to the thought of something better. A comfortable life, with a house tucked away at the edge of the forest, sitting by tranquil streams and gazing out at the beautiful scenery. Then my daydreams would disappear.

journey

pins and needles

The figure strode through the deserted streets, barely flinching as the icy rain pounded at her long black robes. The hood shrouded her face in shadow, an ominous mask of darkness over her features.

The trees whisper ancient tales of friendship and battle, weaving their branches through the canvas of leaves above us, watching, waiting, as the children venture through their midst. 

the watchers

stolen souls

“Phoenix Rose,” I stutter. “Uh, Phoenix Rose Adams.” The teacher taking attendance in the front field is looking at me strangely, but hands me a map and locker key. “Thank you,” I smile nervously and head towards the ever – growing line of new students in front of the door.

Nat jolted awake as the car swiftly turned the corner onto Applewood Crescent. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at all the neatly trimmed hedges and houses standing elegantly in a row along the crisp, clean pavement. 

copperhill manor

the stream

The churning and gurgling as the river swept over the rocks. Bees danced merrily between the wildflowers tickling the surface of the water. 

These are paragraphs of flash fiction I wrote, which sort of combine to make another story. Thanks for reading!

An awkward silence filled the room as a few more guests entered the room, wiping their muddy boots on the doormat, hanging their dripping coats on the coat hanger at the base of the staircase. Most people thought I was rather odd.

doorstep murder