As I mentioned last week, as I’m away, I’m extending my two short story competitions’ closing date to Sunday 5th June so there’s still time to enter! To find out more, take a look at my competition page.
I don’t know about you, but I often get my ideas when I’m away on holiday; ideas come from all sorts of corners, from people watching, to inspirational and beautiful scenes, to being taken back in time with a place’s history and culture. Sometimes a single word is enough to get the ideas coming. Here’s an idea for a flash fiction piece which grew from the word ‘forest’:
When Will it End?
Branches stab at me, fingers uncoiling, reaching out. I push past them, panting.
Voices fill the air, guttural, gathering momentum. Someone sees me; I shiver. Lights fill the forest, footsteps thunder, coming closer. Shouts shoot through me; I scream. Chanting commences, wild eyes are everywhere.
“We have the witch!”
Many hands claim me, shoving me, thrusting me forwards to my fate.
Sobs catch in my throat. I am no witch, but at least it will end.