She sits alone, staring into the crimson flames, a glass of ruby wine in her hand, the half-empty bottle on the wooden floor beside her. Muddy rivers run down her cheeks from red-rimmed eyes. She takes another sip and puts the glass down. Carefully. She rips off the pretty new blouse which he’d failed to notice – his eyes were elsewhere all night – flings it into the fire where the fabric curls like dead leaves; buttons pop in the heat. More wine sloshes in the glass.
betrayal revealed in long lingering glances scales drop from her eyes sorrow seeps into her heart dying embers fill the grate ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Image credit: Tathanhtaun @ Pexabay The image showsa pair of spectacles to which a pair of rose-colored clip-on attachment is affixed. You can see a view of skyline near a shore through these colored clip-ons.
Joey hunkered down in the corner of the heavily-graffitied bus shelter, trying to evade the spiny tentacles of the stiffening breeze blowing off the river Mersey and up the eponymous street that led from Otterspool Promenade onto the busy pavement-cracked main road.
Jealousy coiled its long yellow fingers around him, clutching at the frayed edges of his grungy army-surplus parka as he watched the rich folk in their fancy cars hurtling past him on their way back to the city, while a dull summer sun slipped slowly into the west, raising an ironic eyebrow and casting a rose-tinted light over the poverty-stricken suburbs and abandoned factories of the urban fringe.
Now fumbling his pockets for his last fag, Joey’s grubby nail-bitten fingers fell upon his latest treasure; a smile twitched about his lips, smoothing his habitual scowl and suggesting the possibility of a less desolate future for its twenty-something wearer. His latest jaunt down to the low-tide river, grubbing about among the detritus lodged in the sludgy mudflats, had yielded his best find yet.
He gripped the object tightly, a glimmer of hope kindling; he’d be popping around to visit Phil ‘The Fence’ tomorrow.
solo traveller striding through life’s long journey youthful confidence casts trepidation aside to reach the ultimate goal
he seizes the day glorying in his triumph all demons vanquished
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Image credit: Suliman Sallehi @ Pexels The image showsa person standing on top of a rock, his feet straddling two projections. In the background, you can see the skyline and down below some houses.
The True Owl-King beckoned his rescuers to follow; he flung open the front doors so forcefully that they hit the pink palace walls with a crash, causing the creatures on the emerald lawn to flap and fluster in a flurry of fluorescent wings.
The Owl-King’s gentle brown eyes found Florigia’s and he inclined his head, his gaze fell upon Lobelia and he grinned, then stepping onto the lawn, he prodded the glaucous insulation that encased the fallen Captain Stinger with a wary wingtip.
‘Your crafty and clever charms saved us all, elegant ladies,’ he beamed; he opened his wings to encompass the entire company: ‘let there be feasting and fun, let there be singing and stories,’ he swung around to face the palace doors where a collection of pastel-uniformed retainers had appeared, ‘bring honey cakes and nectar juice!’
‘I still don’t understand,’ mumbled Mr Eyre through a mouthful of cake as Bryony tilted the travelling-bracelet against the inside case of his pocket-watch; its message now read: Prophesy fulfilled, time’s up!
Greta squeezed Bethany’s shoulder: ‘you were the golden-haired child after all.’
The bracelet started to vibrate; pocketing his watch, Mr Eyre hastily grabbed the girls’ hands; moments later they vanished.
Thisconcludes our little tale. I think we can safely assume that Mr Eyre, Bryony and Bethany returned as if they’d never been away, just in time for breakfast…
Bryony, Bethany and Mr Eyre first appeared in my historical fantasy fiction novel, Following the Green Rabbit. They’ve been begging to go on another adventure and now they’ve got their wish! The novel is now also available as an audiobook – free on Audible with a 30 day trial.
emerging at last from an underground cocoon pale sun still shrouded yet emerald shoots glisten birds are calling to the dawn
post-apocalypse nature is undefeated what will man do now?
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Image credit: LuizClas@ Pexels The image showsa young person’s silhouette against a pink sky.There is a subdued sun in the sky and birds flying in circle.
The window frame gave way and Mr Eyre burst through the opening: ‘Stop!’ his voice echoed around the almost-empty room; Bryony clambered after him and scurried over to join her sister, who was crouching behind the throne, wearing an expression of pained concentration.
Before Bryony could say anything, Bethany popped her head up from behind the throne and fired a stream of incomprehensible utterances at the tottering trio of arm-waving owlets; a moment later they crumpled like string-severed puppets and three white mice scuttled away into the shadows.
A low murmur accompanied what the two girls and their tutor initially took to be an optical illusion, as a shadowy figure started to assemble itself from the dancing dust motes, disturbed by the breeze from the breeched window; slowly, eyes and mouth materialised within a moon-shaped face. ‘Thank you,’ it beamed at Bethany, ‘your charm worked – you overcame those evil imps who impersonated me and tried to kill me; fortunately they couldn’t find me, even after taking my poor palace apart.’
The figure solidified into a regal, golden-robed individual, who retrieved the discarded crown and placed it on its head. ‘There is one, only one Owl-King, and I am he!’
Bryony, Bethany and Mr Eyre first appeared in my historical fantasy fiction novel, Following the Green Rabbit. They’ve been begging to go on another adventure and now they’ve got their wish! The novel is now also available as an audiobook – free on Audible with a 30 day trial.
We see a black and white kitten playing with a green flower-bearing shoot growing in between the paving stones.
Remember what it was like to be full of wonder? When every day brought a fresh new adventure?
To view the world curious and unafraid without prejudices or preconceptions open to possibilities alive with expectations, just starting out on life’s path?
The afternoon wore on and languid shadows yawned and stretched their fingers across the emerald-green lawn. Beetle-Queen Florigia regarded the blank-windowed frontage of the pink palace with her multi-faceted eyes, bending her antennae into a quizzical frown, while in response Lobelia’s lacy wings began to flutter in graceful agitation. Greta voiced their joint thought: ‘can it be that the charm hasn’t worked?’
Florigia’s colourful subjects were also becoming restless, some meandering about the lawn like bored holiday-makers waiting for a long-anticipated show, while others remained stationary, their wing cases fanning noisily like the droning engines of over-heated cars halted in grid-locked traffic.
Around the back of the palace, driven on by the developments he and Bryony had observed inside, Mr Eyre was grimly prying open the grimy window with a discarded poker, while Bryony kept up a hushed commentary as beyond the glass, her sister retreated from the three squat figures who had emerged from under the Owl-King’s flowing robes and who were tottering about in front of her, as if having imbibed too much brandy.
‘Quickly, Mr Eyre,’ Bryony urged, seeing Bethany scurry behind the jewel-encrusted throne while the trio advanced, staggering and swaying in a strange drunken dance.
Bryony, Bethany and Mr Eyre first appeared in my historical fantasy fiction novel, Following the Green Rabbit. They’ve been begging to go on another adventure and now they’ve got their wish! The novel is now also available as an audiobook – free on Audible with a 30 day trial.
Muttering to himself, the Owl-King marched slightly unsteadily down a long passageway; Bethany, who was walking just behind him, had the distinct impression that not just one voice, but three different voices were holding a hushed conversation beneath his flowing golden robe, although annoyingly she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
The passageway ended in a large door, decorated with an owl holding a drooping lily flower in its beak; the doors swung open and Bethany followed the now-tottering figure over the threshold. The Owl-King steadied himself, leaning on the back of an opulently appointed throne, which was one of the few items of furniture in the room; he turned to Bethany, ‘you say you know my secret, but I know yours too!’
The Owl-King bent forward; his helmet twitched, then suddenly he crumpled to the floor; his helmet rolled away and three small figures scurried from beneath the golden robe.
‘This is OwletHall and we are the Owlets!’ the three of them danced around Bethany, hooting with mischievous laughter, ‘drop the pretence, you’re not the golden-haired child at all!’
Undeterred, Bethany planted her hands on her hips, ‘well, to be fair, you three aren’t the Owl-King either.’
Bryony, Bethany and Mr Eyre first appeared in my historical fantasy fiction novel, Following the Green Rabbit. They’ve been begging to go on another adventure and now they’ve got their wish!
luna's on line 