Rivers Of Consciousness

Don't worry, be happy. Who knows what may happen?

Archive for the tag “fiction”

New Fiction

Her teeth clamped, catching the little snag in her nail that had been bugging for twenty minutes now. A light tug peeled a sliver back, smoothing the rounded edge in one practised motion and stealing a flake of nail polish in its wake. She sighed in a manner that almost formulated a ‘tut’, inspecting the damage done to the manicure. Her gaze never lifted. Lounging opposite, he raised one overgrown eyebrow with a mild smile touching his lips, expectation lingering in the void between them. His watch ticked. He waited. She avoided.
He cleared his throat. She could sense his eyes sliding over her petite frame, tucked away securely in her modest blouse. She didn’t see his eye rest on the soft flesh revealed through her collar, the buttons parted enough to allow him a glimpse of the hollow in the base of her neck. A pendant nestled there, making its home in the subtle dip amongst winged collarbones. The twist of silver, a simple cynosure.  Feeling his scrutiny burning her skin, she shifted in her seat, dropping her hands into her lap as she forced herself to meet his eye. His smile broadened, remembering those same eyes enflamed in passion as her fiery hair had haloed flushed cheeks. Searching his face fleetingly, she bristled. Snap out of it, girl. You’re not the guilty one here…Emboldened by her self-assertion, she straightened up to challenge his stare fiercely.
“You have some fucking cheek, asking me to come here. On a Saturday, too. What are you playing at?” If her voice gave her nerves away, his face didn’t show it.
She was met with silence. He simply toyed with the corner of a napkin, one which had melted into a puddle on the scratched table that formed a vast barrier between them. Yet it was not distant enough from him, not for her liking. His tongue flickered across his cushioned top lip as he gazed at her, savouring his words before allowing them to spill.
“Doll, I don’t mean no inconvenience to ya,” he murmured with his soft lilt, “just thought I’d pay ya a visit, see how you’re doing since…” he trailed off. Damn the bastard for bringing it up again.

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So it seems I’m having another creative dry spell at the moment…but this piece of fiction I’ve been slowly fitting together for a while. Of course, it is just the beginning, and I haven’t entirely decided where it will lead yet (partly the reason it has no title yet), but I hope to gain some feedback on this little snippet – does it capture your attention? Does it make you want to read on? Is it worth developing further? Let me know what you think! I may post another bit soon if my dregs of creativity can spark into something a little more substantial 😀

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Not Yet

Another attempt at Prose Poetry, one which is definitely going in my final assignment. I hope I’m getting this prose poetry stuff right, because it’s so much harder than I expected! Enjoy, let me know what you think 😀

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hands

Your name rolls across my tongue to meet the barricade of my teeth, crushing impulse with sense. A shimmer in the eye distracts from my deep nasal exhale and you stare, brows twitching with an air of concern that gives you away. But hush, hush. You leave a finger print on Cupid’s Bow, as only you could. The bow is taut, poised for passion or perhaps pain.

My pride is turned away from your gaze and I narrow my eyes to the spinning letters dancing on the departure board. My tears pour back up their estuary to their humble spring, a spring bubbling from nerves and synapses. Your nose nudges the curve of my neck and sighs. I can feel your palm, warm against the dip of my spine while the other traces my shoulder blades. I have never felt more complete than while here in your grasp.

Pressed together, encircled in your aura. Your breath tickles the delicate twists of my ear as you whisper; This is not the end, not yet. You have buried into my flesh, impossible to extract. Your absence wounds me, soothed only by your voice. A single tear is the downfall of this mask, dissolving it until all that remains in my hands is the solution. Not long, not far. We’ll make it. Forehead to forehead, your pupils fling the curtains wide and search my eyes. Dawn cracks with the first rays of a smile and somehow, I believe you now.

 

 

 

 

Image source:
http://data.whicdn.com/images/22641031/scaled_thumb.php

‘Enough’ – A quick experimental piece

First things first, following my recent neglect of this blog I’ve decided to spruce it up a bit, with a new theme and improved organisation of my posts to hopefully make it generally better. It appears I am something of a binge-blogger, as I discovered whilst scrolling back through previous posts, and my recent hiatus is to be blamed on my Easter break. I do intend to post more often, whenever the creative bug bites.

Anyway, just before my Easter break I roughly threw together the skeleton for this short piece and have decided to revisit and flesh it out today. I may use it for my next Uni work but for now it is simply playing with a different style. If you know me well, don’t panic – as with most of my work it is a persona, the ‘me’ is not me 🙂
I apologise if the subject is a little…intense. Anyway, have a read and let me know what you think!

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Enough now, please. I can’t. I’m on my knees dangling from your loose hand, submerged in my own pleading. Why do you keep doing this, why do you do this to me? You’re oblivious. You don’t see, you can’t. How could you? There’s a different world behind your eyes and you won’t let me in. What will it take? Your skin scolds me yet your heart is ice, a cobra from your mouth leaving me in paralysis. I am a rabbit in the headlights, kicked in the chest by a demon that plagues me, you, plagues us. The void widens, leaving me suspended in the swirl of my own words, shards that tried to pierce the stone mask. Such contempt is a barbed needle, and once more I accept an insult that shreds me inside. It shreds me when I try to remove the sting, try to save myself from your venom. You are possessed by a malevolence you cannot reign in, and I fall prey to your corrosion. What will be left? Like a plaster on a bullet wound, sorry just doesn’t cover it. I beg, I beg, no more, please.

Fiction Assignment: Phoenix

This fiction piece has been written for my Uni assignment due next week. If it feels familiar, it’s because it is a re-worked, developed and expanded piece based on work posted here under the same name. Hope you enjoy.

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stained glass

With a slow groan, the front door returned to its frame with a thud. It unsettled the house, lifting the dust particles to dance in the light beam until they drifted back to their dormant position, and also on to Mia’s face. No-one had crossed this threshold for years. Her eyes scanned the grand entrance, pupils dilated to fight the blindness of gloom. They came to rest on the ornate coat stand, which once served as her prima donna in the puppet shows she set up for her family, donned in her grandfather’s trench coat that had carried a lingering scent of clay-like mud. The stand used to gleam under her grandmother’s watch, polished to perfection, but those days are long gone. It now stood bare, coated not in military finery but instead the dulling flakes of dust and, more recently, ash.

Her step echoed as she progressed steadily forward, towards the back of the house. As she passed, her hand instinctively trailed along the smooth marble banister of the curved stairs, caressing the end post the way so many of her family members had done before. The ground seemed to shift as she dislodged years of neglect, kicking over charred wood and what was once a vibrant Persian rug which had suffered flame-bitten wounds, disfigured by destruction. The darkness withdrew the deeper into the house’s belly she walked, overpowered by the sunlight that splintered the shadows. She stopped.

She had not braced herself for the sight before her.  The earth fell away, leaving her on the edge of a crater where once her kitchen had stood proudly.

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Keep Out

Blogger Sethsnap often posts photographic story prompts, where followers are invited to take an image he has taken as inspiration for a story/poem/creative writing outlet. I often read the contributions but have never taken part myself, until now. It was a fun little exercise which I recommend, whether you want to break Writers’ Block or have fun trying your hand at something creative.

The original post: http://sethsnap.com/2013/01/28/your-storykeep-out/

Image

Crestfallen, she ran her hand through the unruly halo of hair that tumbles down her back. It wasn’t there before, honest Teddy. Hopping from foot to foot, she chewed her bottom lip indecisively. ‘KEEP OUT’. The words taunted her from a foot above her head. She hugged Teddy to her chest, pulling the scarf wound around her thin neck tighter. ‘PRIVATE PROPERTY’. Glancing around, she sighed. Why? It’s not fair! No-one ever comes here, not anymore. Her coarse boots barely made a sound as she crept forward, the snow muffling her footsteps into a dull, softened padding. She had been down this track a thousand million times, twirling with autumn leaves and singing the springtime bird calls. But now, in the biting wind desolation of winter, her playground was forbidden. The land was no longer anonymous, and this sign built a barrier between her path home and her path to serenity, found in the deep, cave-like knotted undergrowth. Her heart pounded in her chest. She had never broken the rules before, at least not like this. Of course, she had swiped chocolate from the pantry and stayed up past bedtime before, but this was different. Big, scary world kind of different. Temptation snaked into her mind. She had been here every day for a nearly a year, one sign was not going to change that. Full of resolution, she took a step forward.
 
Behind her, a flock of birds screamed into the air suddenly, a cloud of distress fleeing from an unknown disturbance. Startled, she crouched like a tribal hunter, alert, poised and steady. Eyes wide, they scanned the shadows, but though they found nothing, she did not feel at ease. Her chest heaved with nerves, the bellows to the fire of fear. There was no way she was going back home now, not past those trees. She had seen a fox once, evil beady eyes staring at her while his tongue flickered across pointed teeth, and she had screamed, scaring it away. She didn’t want to see one today, not a fox, or, or worse. Facing the track once more, she glanced at the imposing sign with a deep breath, before darting with the agility only a frightened child could possess into her familiar haven. A puff of snow kicked up a wake behind her as she ran, leaving the sign at its watchtower as she disappeared deeper down the track. She didn’t hear the snap of twigs. She didn’t see the sliding shadow gliding from the tree-line to the track. She didn’t see the dark silhouette facing of the entrance to her beloved forest. She only saw her breath rising before her, the twists of the path guiding her further until it turned sharply to the right. She didn’t keep following it. She pushed herself straight on, tearing through the lower branches of skyscraper trees until her den came into view. Trembling, she slipped between the boulder and the tree stump into the dipped den, pressing her stomach to the frosted dirt floor. She leant her forehead on Teddy, praying each punch of her heart didn’t reveal her hiding place. She’d be safe here, right? 

Phoenix

Task: Write about a place or colour in 3 paragraphs.
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