Writing Weekends

I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me; all day I feel it’s feathery turning, it’s malignity-Slyvia Plath The moonlight watched over the luminous lake as the two silhouettes stood under the stars. He was masked for his identity could not be revealed to possible onlookers especially when his companion was a…

Writing Weekends

My Dear Mai, Father has become suspicious of our correspondence again so this will be my last letter for a while. He gives talks of my betrothal to this King Lucas of WiccaWood-for where on earth is that? I certainly haven’t heard of before, Father only names the four kingdoms I am to rule, strangely…

Why I Write

Ever since I was little, when mum used to read me stories to bed until I could read, I have always wanted to write. Even when I could read, I insisted mum could keep on reading me to sleep because I loved being transported to another world. When I actually learnt to read, through the…

Writing Weekends

She was a mystery wrapped up in the classic novels of the past, buried in books and loaded with coffee. Nobody knew her name, only her favourite book. She dreamed of castle on the clouds, righteous men, hovercars and talking animals. She questioned her purpose in this life, what she would achieve and how everyone…

Writing Weekends :)

1814 The Caribbean The wind felt different that day. Her candle flickered in the velvet night. The shadows had begun dancing and twisting around her resting body. Images ran through her mind. Treasure. Skull. Island. Love. Betrayal. Vivid as the sun yet dull as smoke. “Wake up miss! We’re almost there, your father wants you…

Writing Weekends :)

“Clary, c’mon! Simon’s here for you!” “Mom! Don’t need to let the whole neighbourhood know!” Clary shouted down the stairs tying up her golden sunset hair. “Love you!” “Love you too!” Was her hair better up or down? Everything she did looked wrong. She grabbed her hoodie off the full body mirror, catching a glimpse…

My Bloody Valentine

13th February 1817 I must submit myself. I must comply with what the duke of my heart requests of me. A painful intercourse that results in blood. Blood all on the sheets and duvet. The pain, oh the pain. He thinks I squeal out of pleasure, but I scream of agony. “Oh my sweet Duchess,”…

Writing Weekends

The Mirror I stare into those hollow glass eyes Are they hers or are they mine? Feeling empty with nothing to live for No energy of life worth living She is not real anymore But a ghost girl A line drawing A line drawing,  she practices every day and night A tattoo, Her mark Or…

Writing Weekends :)

“Did you love her?” “Who?” “The girl in the photograph, you look happy, free…what happened?” A distant flash of pain scored his face before returning to the wine. Corked. White. Chardonnay. She mentioned it was her favourite before meeting. He looked across to her darting chocolate eyes over his photos by the table. “Anyway, this…

Writing Weekends :)

This is a new thing I’ve been meaning to start since returning the blog. I don’t often go on Facebook so I turn to Pinterest for ideas for food, fashion and interior design ideas. I mainly use it for character and story ideas so I’ve made a folder of ‘writing prompts’ where I’m doing flash…

#MondayManipulation

Recently on Facebook I found an article on 6 ways on how to comeback a manipulator. What I wasn’t expecting was the response and to find I wasn’t alone and therefore thought it natural, following my recent dark sexual assault article, that this is something also worth highlighting. What people (myself included in this) don’t…

Exclusive: Let’s Talk About Sex

Let’s talk about sex. The unspeakable thing in English society especially. The thing that as teenagers, our hormone’s drive us. As adults, it’s the thing that drives marriages and long term relationships. The thing that defines us by our genders. Men and the ‘locker room talk’, women and intimate ‘making love’ definitions. Men, who are…