Wednesday Write-in #86

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Welcome to the Wednesday Write-in!

Welcome to the Wednesday Write-in. This event runs every week to help any and all writers take control of their productivity and imaginations. Please join in; we’d love to read your work.

Prompts

mistake  ::  baggage  ::  curlew  ::  tear  ::  shatter

Guidelines

There are no rules, but here are some guidelines:

  • Use the prompts as inspiration or try to work them into your story somehow. Use as many as you want.
  • When your story is done, post it online (your blog/twitter/in a comment here), tag with #wednesdaywritein if you like, and comment with a link so we can read it.
  • Please take the time to read and comment on as many other stories as you have time for (but we won’t shout at you if you don’t).
  • If you want to write a poem, a script, or something completely different, feel free.

Get Involved

Look for us on Facebook or Twitter to keep up with the write-ins, or click the follow button to get blog updates.

Any questions? Otherwise, have fun writing!

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40 thoughts on “Wednesday Write-in #86

    • Down in the slog of the bog is the slob

      Happy Irish families portrayed with some fondness and pride I suspect

      Lucky people with little to show for it except happiness

      Roy

      • Well, I’m not sure how happy they are! 🙂 But thank you. Yes, there’s pride there and lots of fondness for my childhood home. Thanks for reading.

  1. Here is my contribution to what I thought was a very interesting range of prompts this time

    Hope you all enjoy this one

    Roy

    Prompts
    mistake :: baggage :: curlew :: tear :: shatter

    The Big Mistake

    I couldn’t wait to see her. It had been weeks and I wasn’t even able to contact her in the isolated Scottish island we called home. I drove the car with the urgency of a drowning man across the beautiful but dreadfully lonely highlands towards the ferry. I imagined how she would greet me; surprise, delight, embarrassment – would she run to me with open arms tears streaming with joy and anticipation of the first kiss, her hair streaming around my shoulder as she nestled into me, hugging and breathless. My thoughts were jumbled with my many expectations and doubts. Perhaps she was used to not seeing me and had decided to have no more of not knowing why I had to go on ‘another jaunt’ as she called my absences. I hoped not; she was the only thing in my life which made sense.
    I decided there would be no more contracts; no matter how lucrative and no matter how much the target ought to be extinguished. We had everything we needed and we had each other, no one would find us on our island. Yes I had reached the end of my professional career as an assassin. I just needed to get home to peace and quiet and her love and tenderness and to wash away all the anxiety and fear; forget the site of blood and death and that piercing astonishment in my victim’s eyes.
    Too fast at the bend I lost the back end of the car and careered over the edge into the rocky ravine; in seconds, the shatter of glass, the painful tear of ligaments, the whirl of beautiful glen around me as the car crumpled and the contents of my baggage was riffled and strewn about. I did not die instantly I lived long enough to regret the big mistake I had made. I had lost control and paid for it. After all my years of meticulous planning and detailed preparation to guarantee total confidence in the outcome of ‘the jaunt’. I had lost it. I did not feel angry just amazement, shock. Would she wonder what happened to me?
    The only witness to my demise, the only testament to my last breath – was the curlew and its lonely call – cuurleew- currlleew.

  2. A little flash fiction:

    Baggage

    I didn’t think I had any baggage, I thought I’d unpacked it, stuffed it in plastic bags and binned it years ago. But the date. It was the date. Some dates just stick in your head and won’t allow you to forget.

    When the final piece of paper plopped through the letter box I sat on the stairs and shed a waterfall of misery. Twenty-five years was not a mistake.

    And now ten years on, I sat on different stairs and another tear dripped to mark the occasion.

  3. The Honeymoon
    The setting was perfect. The cottage in tranquil countryside close to the river, all chocolate box prettiness, a place to start making memories.
    She watched the curlew wading through the shallows, its long curved beak busy stabbing the dark water for unseen prey. Further along the river a gaggle of geese waddled over the muddy bank, their harsh calls shattering the dawn silence.
    A single tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered their quarrel. The stupid argument about nothing, his calling her a spoilt child, her refusal to listen to his apology, then the panic as he put his baggage back into the car and drove away.
    She’d been out here for hours, since before first light, wondering what to do. Surely he’d come back. But what if he didn’t? She pictured herself running back to her parents. She pictured life without him, but found she couldn’t.
    The sun was rising and it was going to be a beautiful day. She walked slowly up the lane towards the house and let herself into the silent kitchen. Maybe she had over-reacted. Maybe he would give her a second chance. Was this what marriage was all about? Maybe it was time to grow up.
    She left a message. ‘Please, I’m sorry. I’ve made a huge mistake. Please come back.’
    As she put the phone down the voice of a blackbird on a tree outside sang out joyfully to greet the day, and a car drew up outside.

    • Oh, what a lovely ending – both in terms of the way you’ve written the sentence, and the sentiment. I hope their marriage gets stronger from here! Beautiful language and imagery throughout, particularly focused on the birds and their calls; I could really picture the scene.

      • Thank you for your kind comment. I think they’ll learn from this shaky start!

    • I hope this relationship will carry on building brick by brick

      So well observed as usual

      Happy ending too

      Roy

    • The silent kitchen was a great image and the last line gives the story a positive hope that things will work out after all. Great job!

    • “If it is not the happy ending, then it is not the end at all” type of story and I absolutely enjoyed it! Real life picture, and I know for sure – everything will be good between those two 🙂 it should be!

    • This is late. I have a serious head cold, dammit.
      A great description of how we feel when couples get it wrong. I think the ending is fun because we don’t know whether it’s him, or some young clean-shaven doctor seeking tranquility and a long-term relationship.
      A single tear! Not too upset then.

      • I hope you get better before Easter and your trip. Poor girl, she’d cried buckets all night so there was just the one tear left!! No, it’s definitely his car. She’ll mature and he’ll be more tolerant and they’ll live happily ever after.

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    • I loved this piece Tessa

      I just want to read more of it

      Tremendous opening paragraph. Makes you want to find out all about the father, girl, the baggage, the money, the organisation, the other man and where is the mother? What will the girl do now she has killed a man? Will her father recover? Will they become some sort of vengeance team?

      Roy

      • Thank you! The story has lots of possibilities for a longer piece. Glad you liked it. 🙂

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