Day 45. Day 45 started much the same as Day 44 and Day 43. Both boring days, with no interlude aside from when the food was un-ceremoniously shoved through the access slot next to the door. Kell stared at the ceiling, focussing on her breathing. She’d spent the first fifteen days of Quarantine being angry, … More Quarantine (From the Archives)
‘Sticks and stones my break my bones, but words will never hurt me’. It’s an old adage, one which is rattled out again and again to try and say how words are only mere words and therefore are 100% less efficient at ruining someone’s good day than throwing a few stones at them. However, here … More Choosing the Right Words
To say I cannot write would be an understatement. To say I was a perfectionist would be a truth. To say I was a dreamer would be realistic. There are words locked within my mind, this I know. It’s the same feeling when you know that someone is standing behind you, but just out of sight. They … More Why I Write
The feeling was not of anger or of hatred. It was the bone sinking, gut wrenching quiet whisper of doubt. It was the thoughts Felicity didn’t even know where there until Gerrard had pointed them out. Her snappiness. Her temper. She was scared, scared for them all, but she’d never admit it. She’d never admit … More Fear (From the Archives)
“I can’t do it,” Felruza slammed her fist against the table. Why was it so damn hard? Why could everyone else do this one simple thing and she couldn’t? “It’ll come,” her mother said from across the table. Her voice was gentle, it always was, the opposite of her innate power which was creating fireballs … More Can’t Do It
“It was all so good,” Tristan sighed, into his drink “before you lot got involved.” The bodies didn’t talk back. They never talked back. “You know,” he said, reaching over the bar and pulling a bottle from under the shelf, “I really wish that time magic was a thing. That I could go back to … More Before (From the Archives)
“You’re orange,” A bit of a state-the-obvious comment from Ryan. Cassie wiped the orange blood of her blade and sheathed her weapon. Monster blood never made for a particularly delightful colour. Least it was better than the stuff they had up North, which was acidic blood. “Stating the obvious much,” Cassie remarked, kicking the corpse … More Like the Sky at Sundown
Fyerik groaned, holding her head in her hands as she threw up into the bucket again. “Do I really have to try again?” she groaned, sipping the fruit tea that Hyacken had put next to her bedside table. Hyacken nodded, eyes sad. This wouldn’t be the first time she had seen a Seer struggle to … More The Otherworlds (From the Archives)
Junea pulled the reigns of Ceanol sharply, bringing her to a halt. “Why did you stop?” Kanek asked, pulling up next to Junea. Garne, his horse, stamped impatiently. He was an old racing horse, and he hated standing still for more than a moment at a time. “Do you hear that?” Junea asked. Kanek cocked … More Crossing the River Ine (From the Archives)
February has rushed away from me, taking with it the dregs of winter. We finally have sight of spring on the horizon, lighter mornings and the first new daffodils budding in the ground. There is a simple joy in appreciating the world around you, and I cannot help but the last year of varying forms … More Writing is the Challenge
