Bright Blessings

Flora plunged her fingers into the warm earth, rooting around with patient dedication. She turned up nothing. Rising to her feet, head slowly turning back and forth, she heard the scream again. They were always so difficult to locate, the earth muffling their cries. She spent another hour snaking her way back and forth through the forest. All the usual spots turned up nothing but worms and mulch. Head swivelling like a satellite dish, ears constantly pricked, she worked her way deeper under the canopy, back where the elders grew, Ancient oaks, once the hiding place of kings, great pines, the ancestral homes of dryads, and none sheltering the screamer amongst their sprawling roots. Pausing to drink deeply from the clear waters of a stream which flowed in tumbling delight from the mountains, she caught the scream once more. So close she felt she could reach out and touch it. Ah, of course, the willows. Long had they deserved their reputation as often playful, occasionally sp...

There was a rustle, an inquiring squeak and then the front of the doll house was opened. The young father, about to pop a surprise doll inside for his daughter, never stood a chance. 100 mice swarmed out, chewed him down to the bone and made off down the stairs, the first one holding his car keys in firm jaws. They piled up, balancing mouse after mouse, until they could swarm inside the overcoat and baseball cap hanging on the back of the garage door. It took them a few treacherous moments to get the co-ordination right but soon they were tottering over to the Jeep; a slightly drunken figure who perhaps ought not to be driving. Various wriggles and slinks got the remote pressed, the door open and a neat split into three groups. The first group clambered down to the pedals, taking a little time to work out how many were needed on each. The second scampered up to the steering wheel forming a neat circle and using their hamster wheel training to get it moving back and fo...

So I saw a writing prompt on Reddit suggesting using the first and last lines of a nursery rhyme to write a story. I chose Soldier, Soldier, won't you marry me as it was a favourite to sing to #2 daughter when she was little. ‘Soldier, soldier, won’t you marry me?’ Karen heard the old song running through her mind as she opened the door to Jeff. Always, her heart leapt at the sight of the handsome man on her doorstep, in full dress uniform, medals glittering on his breast. She ushered him in and did what she always did, gave him everything she and her home had to offer. Ever she hoped those magic words would finally come. Instead she heard; “My best coat got ripped yesterday. I don’t suppose…?” He knew, she knew, and off she went to the attic, flinging back the lid of her grandfather’s military chest. His beautifully preserved camel hair coat lay on top of many mementoes and Karen wondered, fleetingly, if he minded her giving away his things. She doubted it. He’d alw...

In autumn she came. She sat beneath the falling leaves, feared her memories would wither and fade with them. She gathered crumbling foliage to her, sympathised with their dried out existence, their willingness to release the world. Would she go with them? Did she have the nerve? The world was a husk without him.  In winter she came. She circled the monument, round and round, pacing out the minutes in a whirl of ephemeral flakes. She watched them melt on her hands, on her coat. Felt the stinging, fleeting touches on her cheeks. Would she ever leave the cold, the frozen silence? Could she melt and meld with the warmth of the world once more? Without him? In spring she came. Pale light, tentative warmth urging blossoms forth. Undercurrents of renewal, returning to the world after restorative sleep. Light breezes stirred her hair, crowned her with shed petals . Drifts piled around her feet. She kicked at the past blossoms, scattering them to the winds, tucked a spr...