I’ve been posting weekly content for a couple of years now, occasionally reposting older work with some edits or highlighting past favourites, but mostly new poetry, flash fiction, or drabbles. However I need some time out, so there won’t be a new #writingwednesday next week. Thanks for reading what I’ve posted so far, I’ll return when I can.

Flash Fiction: Be Careful What You Wish For

Summary: When Joris discovers a genie in a lamp he begins making wishes, but without fully thinking through the consequences.

gold teapot on black and white tray
Photo by Streetwindy on


Joris had been given the battered cardboard box by a friend, who’d filled it with things found in a shed he was cleaning out for his elderly neighbour.

“Load of old junk,” his friend said, “but I know who much junk you sell on Ebay.”

It was true that Joris ran a successful side business by finding and selling collectables and unusual items and he’d accepted the box. So he opened the box and began to catalogue the contents.

Continue reading Flash Fiction: Be Careful What You Wish For

Poem: Quality

cheerful ethnic man in earphones with bag on shoulder in city in hot summer day
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on

There is a difference between existing
and living
Just as there is a difference between summer
and sunshine
between loneliness
and chosen solitude
between unwanted unemployment
and a longed-for holiday
or a job compared to a vocation
There is a difference between going through the motions
compared to living with joy and hope
between quantity
and quality

Voted Most Likely…. – A Writer Tag

A great meme I saw on Tumblr. I do hope to complete it myself 🙂

So It Is (Re)Written

Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash

Come one, come all, to my first ever tagging game*! Mwahahaha.

The Game:

Choosing from among your own original characters, answer the below questions based on which character best suits the answer, then explain your choice.

The Rules:

Rule One: Thank the lovely blogger who tagged you. You know you want to.

Rule Two: Include this lovely link > in your post.

Rule Three: Use your own lovely Original Characters (OC’s); don’t use a friend’s characters or characters from your favorite fandom. They can be from any project, so long as you created them. For more fun, try to use as many different characters as possible.

Rule Four: Tag at least five lovely blogger friends to play along.

And I Choose:

Note: There are other people I would like to tag, but I know they’re mutuals with…

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Fic: A Lot Lot Rain

selective focus photography of a baby looking through the window
Photo by Juan Pablo Arenas on

George knelt on the sofa, staring out of the window, his toy train forgotten about at the first splash of raindrops.

“Lot lot rain,” he announced.

Fiona nodded, ruffling her nephew’s hair. “Yes. Lots of rain.”

There was a rumble of thunder. George’s eyes grew wide. “What that noise?”

“Thunder.” Fiona got his attention and made the sign for thunder. Their family had been using Baby Sign alongside verbal language for almost as long as it had been invented, a simplified version of sign language with a small core vocabulary and some signs modified to make it easier for children’s hands to copy. “You remember thunder.”

George nodded. “Storm.”

They watched the rain for a while until it began to ease.

“Mama wet?” George asked. His mother had taken his older brother to a birthday party and so Fiona shook her head.

“They’ll be inside now, with the birthday boy.”

“When my birthday?”

Fiona smiled. “Not until April.”

“I have birthday party,” George said in a tone suggested this was inevitable.

“If mum and dad say you can.” Fiona was not about to take the blame for agreeing to a party for a bunch of under-fours and the associated cost and chaos. “I think the rain’s stopping.”

George nodded and slid off the sofa. He ran out to the hallway and came back with his Wellington boots. “Feefee, I want play in puddles!”

Fiona nodded, having expected this the moment the sky had darkened. “We need to put our coats on but yes, we can go outside.”

“Hoo-ray,” George cheered, the way he always did, two distinct syllables. “Puddles!” He jumped up and down as if he was already splashing about in the wet.

As she watched George jump all around the garden, laughing and playing, Fiona almost wished she’d bought her own boots so she could join in. She settled for the vicarious pleasure of enjoying George being carefree, revelling in the aftermath of the rain. 

Happy Sunday and end of June! Wishing you all the best for a fabulous July.
I’ll be away for a few days over the next week or so, so I’ve scheduled some posts for #writingwednesday and I’ll look forward to catching up with your posts when I get back. Drop any links you’d love me to see here 🙂

barefoot beach blur break
Photo by on

Imagination Challenge — The Haunted Wordsmith

It looked simple enough when she saw it in the store. It wasn’t too small, but it wasn’t too large that she thought she wouldn’t be able to finish it. But, once she got home, took the plastic wrap off and removed the lid, she learned how very wrong she was. “Good lord, that’s a […]

via Imagination Challenge — The Haunted Wordsmith

An inventive tale!


Intriguing poem

A Guy Called Bloke



It’s truly beautiful here,
………… and the quiet nights can haunt your dreams,
Silence creeps enthusiastically beneath your ear,
… Whilst the dark hides even the moonbeams,
Living the life of a solitary man,
Has its advantages,
Yet for some, these are hard to understand,
And not everything is always that easily managed,
Here in the barren, remote wastelands,
There are times, when even l feel lonely,
… Desperate for the company of another living breathing soul,
But this comes with the territory of such isolated beauty,
And said advantages must somehow take their toll!
… And will l live my life always in such seclusion,
Often l ask this of myself,
… Is this to be the way of this solitary man,
Hiding away from society like an ancient volume upon the shelf?
I can only imagine, that until l know the answers,
… To the questions that…

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