Thursday, 5 May 2011

6 days of 6 sentences 3 - writer's block gone.

After having writer's block I can now catch up my days.

I thought it was a squirrel. It wasn't, it was a cat toy. My heart jumped into my throat as i pictured the idea of the cat catching a squirrel at last. It would be bad, but an achievment for the cat. Better than the mouse, the dead ones she leaves outside and the live ones she brings into house. Thankfully I can jump.

Monday, 2 May 2011

blog design

I'm also wondering how i can make my blog look as wonderful as Laura Cox's blog, for hers is AMAZING!!!! seriously lovely.

6 days of 6 sentences, day 2

In the spirit of yesterday's 6 sentences, I have decided to keep this up for 5 more days. totalling 6 days of 6 sentence stories. Maybe yesterday's won't count as a story as it didn't have a strict end. But for now, at least, it has an end, and i think that it is fine. It may well be extended at some point but for now it is done.  And yes some of them may be more prose or poetical, but as long as the have 6 sentences, everyone is happy. It's just a lovely excerise for me to work my writing brain steams.

So here is todays

A dusky blue sky as the hours ticked on. The tree looks black as branches expand over the window; it seems to merge with the garden below it. My thoughts drift momentarily to him, I wonder what he is doing, and if he was thinking about me. Such a change yet everything is calm. The TV is just noise, but I stare intently waiting for words to come. And then realise, everything is just beginning.

Sunday, 1 May 2011

6 sentences

Something I wrote and thought I'd share, it is inspired my Chris Killen and his 6 sentences.

The sky was pink and blue candy striped, like a stick of rock. And it reminded me of a stick of rock that now sat in a box. I’d made it on one of my many day tips with Paul. We’d made it at the John Bull factory, a “K” carefully hidden inside, I say carefully, it was more careless and lack of experience when it came to making rock. The booze rock we bought on our Whitby holiday lay with it and I longed to be there so that I might taste it and be taken back to what it was like to be with him. And to be on that holiday, to smell the sea air as we waited to cross the bridge, and then go sit on the bar’s balcony at the bottom of the steps to the abbey. Whilst of course drinking wine and looking over the bay, me occasionally glancing at him being reminded how lucky I was.