Monday Motivations

Well, this Monday certainly came round far too quickly. I hope you all had a lovely weekend.

Here’s a new challenge for you:

Write a story or poem on the theme Flashback.

Last week’s theme was Darkness. There were some fantastic pieces:

I’ve really missed Keith Channing‘s limericks so it’s great to see him back:

Distinguishing darkness from light
Is the primary duty of sight
The differing shades
Twixt Heaven and Hades
Are as varied as daytime to night.

Adam Dixon has written a brilliant story. I love his descriptive skills:

Darkness. How she had come to adore it. She scoffed to recall the days when she used to be frightened of it. Those days were long, long ago, a mere salty speck in the maelstrom of her memories, but she could still recollect them, most likely because they amused her. Darkness…how could she ever bear to part from it anymore? The daily struggle for survival sapped her prodigious, near legendary strength, and it was only in darkness when she could allow herself to drop the illusion of invulnerability. It beckoned with kind, assuring fingers, promising safety, and comfort. The younger ones, so full of vigour and ambition chose to stay out hunting, only retreating to their own dark sanctuaries at the last moments. She was the opposite now, choosing to remain with her darkness for as long as she could. Darkness understood her. Darkness saved her.

Soon, her hunger would become great again and she must answer its demands. She would rise and stalk the night under the cover of darkness instead of being held in its embrace; a poor substitute in her eyes. Oh, feeding still had its charms as well as its purpose, but the thrill of it had deserted her long ago. She still enjoyed the coppery taste of blood and feeling its warmth flow through her body, but the struggles and cries of her victims no longer delighted her. When once she had prowled the earth like a great huntress she now only thought of her darkness and how to hurry back to it. Whenever she crossed paths with others of her kind they would stand agape, their awe and fear stabbing into her nostrils with irritating predictability. They beheld her alabaster skin bathed in the glow of the moonlight and the luscious dark hair which framed her regal face and saw a goddess in the flesh. She in turn saw only petty distractions and rushed by them. It had been centuries since any could threaten her, so did not waste time toying with them. The darkness called.

Presently, she must leave her darkness, but she would return and the deafening noise of the world would disappear for a time. She was safe in the darkness. She loved it, and it loved her. She was certain of that.

Lynne Love is the winner of my latest flash fiction competition. Please read her latest super piece of writing:

And here’s the latest installment in the Mary Jane series from Rajiv Chopra:

Darkness engulfed them. They groped about, flailing their arms and coughing in the musty room, and finally their fingers touched.

Her breath rasping, Harley managed a croak, ‘The Dark Knight will come for us.’

A tight slap sent her reeling back. ‘You still have feelings for him, you bitch,’ came an angry voice in the dark. ‘How could you?’

‘No, I have no feelings for him. But, he and I have a legacy, and he will respect this,’ replied Harley. Her fingers reached for Mary Jane’s face in the dark, and she squeaked, ‘Please darling, you must believe me.’

A long pause followed, and then came a reluctant, ‘Oh, alright’ through the darkness that enveloped them.

Light streamed in through a break in the wall, and a cackling laugh was heard. The room was suddenly filled with blinding light, and the two girls found themselves huddled in a corner of their room, shielding their faces. Ice seemed to run through their veins, and they froze in fear and panic.

Fighting back the desire to blubber like fools, they lay back, hands held tight.

So, you think you could escape us?’ a voice sneered. Mary Jane opened her eyes slowly, to see Spidey sneering at her. His eyes and demeanor had changed, and he was no longer the loving Spider she had known. He was a stranger- arrogant, cocky, insolent and full of anger. He seemed to want to assert his superiority over her at all costs, and he stood there in the arrogance of his pride in having her as his prisoner.

Meanwhile, two smaller gentlemen appeared from behind his knees. The two hobbits no longer seemed the gentle souls that she had known. A sneaky vengefulness and spite seemed to have entered their mien, and she could not believe the transformation.

Finally, a foul, cackling breath hung close to Harley’s lips, and she opened her eyes, to look at the Joker. He was on his hands and knees in front of her, cackling with a wild glee.
A darkness seemed to have come over the four men who beheld the two women who sat crouched in the corner.

A darkness also entered the hearts of the two women.

Ah, but The Dark has many shades, and many characteristics. The Dark manifests itself differently in different beings, and brings out some of the essential traits of the person it enters.

The Dark entered the six people in the room, and what different shades we see before us.
Let me, Loki – Prince of Darkness, cause the six to freeze for a while, and let me ask you – what do you see?

Do you see the Darkness of anger and hatred enter the two women? Do you see the Darkness of spite, pride and cruelty enter the men? Do you see the Darkness of sneakiness enter the two Hobbits?

What will I bring to the table now? What shall you see? Do your eyes pierce the veil of illusion? Or, will you allow yourself be carried gently into the cool night, to seek the direction this tale shall now take?

EDC Writing‘s is short, but very effective:

Shows as camera ready
Loved-up sky adores
No feeling in the dark
Half a day alone

Please visit Simon Farnell‘s website to read his great offering:



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37 Responses to Monday Motivations

  1. DrEMiller says:

    Reblogged this on Write of Passage and commented:
    Today’s Monday Motivations from Esther Newton!
    Thank you, Esther! 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Miriam says:

    What a great round up of posts Esther. Some wonderful writing here.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Argh! I missed “Darkness”. Great responses.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Pingback: Flashbacks (Poem) | Simplicity Lane

  5. Steve says:

    Howdee. I just posted on Simplicity Lane a poem that I just wrote in response to your Monday Motivation theme ‘flashback’; being this quick proves that you provide your readers with great motivations.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Lynn Love says:

    Thanks for the mention Esther and lovely writing from everyone here – great short story Adam. There’s a real feeliing of hopelessness and melancholy – which feels right for the character’s situation. Good stuff

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Jason Moody says:

    Love Mr Channing’s limerick. Welcome back, maestro.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Jason Moody says:

    Mr Dixon…stunning bit of work. Loved it. So vivid and full, you could chew it!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Rajiv says:

    Flashback??? You are kidding me!!

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Simon says:

    It’s nice to read the other entries, there were some good ones – now for flashback eh? 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Pingback: Monday Motivations – Flashback | Planet Simon

  12. Rajiv says:

    Here you go…
    Mary Jane opened her eyes, and all she could see in the dark was a pair of glowing eyes. She almost screamed, and then managed to suppress her voice.
    ‘Who are you?’, she asked in a whisper. Harley Quinn was sleeping by her side.
    ‘Ah, you have forgotten me’, said a voice full of malice and spite.
    ‘Frodo?’, she asked, a bit hesitatingly.
    ‘Yes, it is me, Frodo. You seemed to have forgotten me, or how much you liked me. Ah yes. Now you are my prisoner. I will make you pay for your forgetfulness.’
    His voice thrilled with malice, and he raised a knife to his lips. He held a candle with the other hand, and the light danced up and down on the blade. The blade seemed to smell blood, and the light danced to the smell and anticipation of blood being spilled.
    Mary Jane shrank back, and seemed to cringe. She closed her eyes, expecting to feel sharp steel on her skin at any moment. Her blood seemed to congeal inside her, and the pain seemed to reach her nerve endings.
    ‘Please, Frodo’, she whispered, eyes shut tight. ‘Just think of the good times we had. We sang, drank and danced together. I did not betray you. I just ran from Spidey, and then I met Harley. Can you blame me for accidentally falling in love with her? You were always my chosen one, my precious.’
    She opened her eyes slightly, and peered into his face half hidden in shadow. The flickering light lit up the shadows in his eyes. He looked at her and closed his eyes. He seemed to be thinking, dreaming of something.
    Images of the past flashed in his brain; the memories of the two of them sitting and drinking coffee, smoking a pipe, and singing. He remembered that she was the only one who did not laugh when he spoke of The Dark Lord, and of the days of dragons and Elves.
    He reeled back, eyes closed, as memories of the happier times with Mary Jane flashed into his brain. After a while, he sat up and looked at her, chest heaving with emotion.
    ‘My precious’, he repeated. The memory of the time when she had first said that flashed into his brain, and for a moment he was transported to that evening not so long ago, when they sat by the riverside, watching the sun go down. ‘My precious’, she had said then, and she had said it again now.
    “Quick”, he muttered, almost like a madman. “Let’s go”
    Untying her knots, he pushed her up to a standing position. “Wait”, she whispered. “We must take Harley with us”
    “Must we?”, he asked, almost in anger.
    “Yes, my precious, we must”
    Quickly freeing Harley, they got up to leave. Crawling slowly, Frodo opened the door, and they crawled outside.
    Stillness permeated the night, and they crawled in the dark. Freedom beckoned them, one step at a time. Finally, they reached a window to the road, and the cold blast of the night greeted them with a refreshing newness.
    A thud, and a body fell to the floor. A hand grasped Mary Jane’s ankle, as she was slowly climbing out of the window.
    “No……”, said a voice filled with anger, hate and malice. “My preciousssss….. she cannot leave….. Frodo wanted her all for himself did he? No…… Precioussss is mine….. Mine…. Mine……. “
    A sudden memory lit up Mary Jane’s brain, and she was transported back to a night in her old home, when she was woken up by a voice saying, “Preciousssss, Preciousss, Precioussss”. How could she have been so blind, so as not to have noticed that first sign of Sam’s descent into madness.
    The desire for freedom, and a strong distaste for Sam filled her suddenly, and she kicked with all her might.
    A scream resounded in the night, and Sam’s bloody face, and his screaming voice was the last image that she took with her, as she and Harley made their crazed dash back to freedom.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Pingback: Limes are the sourest fruit #mondaymotivations #shortstory | TanGental

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