Tag Archives: flash fiction

Don't Touch Me

Don’t Touch Me. Flash Fiction

I have always loved people watching; for as long as I can remember they fascinate me somewhat. Going about their personal business, some walking in the same direction, but not to the same destination; strangers together. Their lives seemed busy, for whatever reason.

As I walk amongst the crowd, weaving in and out; being careful not to touch or be touched by anyone, I like to keep clean. Keeping my head down as much as I can too; I struggle with eye contact with people; it makes me feel strange – guilty perhaps. They could be having a bad day, and making eye contact would mean that I have ignored them. Simpler just to avoid; I don’t think I am noticed much anyway – I like that too. I am fairly shy and prefer to go be unnoticed; it made my day peaceful; leaving me with only a small number of jobs I am given daily, these days I like.

My job is a difficult one, it really is never easy, but one that is needed to be done. There are quite a few of us in this field, dotted around the world. We rarely interact with each other; we can work alone, when we do come together it is usually the worst kind of days, days we like to avoid. I like my own company, I think the others feel the same none of like the team working days.

My first call of the day is fairly early; it is in a house – I say the first call, I have visited here several times this week, I don’t like to arrive too quickly if I can help it, although I think it was preferred that I completed the jobs a day or so ago. But I like them to have the important things out of the way; it doesn’t make any sense to me to interrupt these.

I can’t put this off any longer.

As I stand to look at the large black wooden front door – it looks quite old – I always like to knock, but I never wait for the door to be answered. You see people don’t like me being in their homes, I try desperately to not be made aware of – most of the time these people know that I am coming.

As I enter the house, I remove a small bottle from my pocket, placing a drop of the gloopy liquid from inside onto my hands and rubbed them together; I like to remain clean all the time, hence why I am not overly keen on being touched, amongst other reasons. I can hear voices from the rooms upstairs, everywhere else seemed cold and empty.

I begin to slowly climb the stairs, a voice shouted over me to whoever was downstairs, within seconds they were running past me, I made sure that nobody touched me or that I got in their way. Reaching the top I took a breath. “This part never gets easier.” I sighed to myself. Slowing my pace as I edged closer to the door at the end of the hallway. It was a long one, passing several dark doors as I walked.

It seemed so small, but there were many people in there, not a lot of space to move. Politely but quietly I said “Excuse me”, as I tried to get by. I can’t be sure they really heard, I never know if I ever get heard.

A path naturally cleared for me; I continue to be careful not to be touched too much, and where my hands placed, for a moment I was able to reach for my tiny bottle again; can’t be too clean. In front of me a bed with an elderly gentleman lying under his covers, he appeared to be sleeping; he obviously wasn’t well. Above the voices which were filling the room, I could hear his laboured breathing and the soft beating of his heart. I continued closer to him; I do hope I can help him.

I crouched down close to his ear.

“I’m here for you.”

Whilst I placed my hand upon his chest, I could instantly feel the final rise and fall as he took his final breath; my hand rested next to those who love him. Carefully sliding my hand away, I stepped back to ensure nobody could sense my being there, I certainly didn’t want contact with them in any way – it wouldn’t be the first time.

The paperwork I need to fill, identities I need to check most of the others who work the same as me use modern technology but I still prefer book and pencil. This one was pretty standard. As hard as they are I like these jobs. I can begin my journey to my next destination.

The cries of sadness trail behind me, I am used to that noise now – well almost.

I didn’t have another in the area, so I made my way to my car. I managed to drive a little way, traffic was building up, the three lanes were filling up. It was then I noticed other members of my team dotted around the queuing traffic, we made eye contact and I knew this wasn’t the end of my day.

The man in the car next to me looked across, he smiled. They usually do.

Seconds later a large tanker ploughed into the car next to me and into others. My quiet day had now ended.

Flash Fiction Friday – A Prologue

This is a prologue from a book, which I have almost finished; which will be part of a series.

The bright lights that had surrounded her for so long, became blurry, duller they didn’t make her blink as much.

Darker and darker her surroundings became until there was nothing but black, had she gone blind? Or was it just that black. She could feel herself falling, she couldn’t see where she was falling, how far she’d be falling or if she’d ever stop; she felt strangely calm. The silence was deafening.

She landed with a loud thud, it echoed, over and over.

Eye closed tight she laid on her back facing, what she assumed was up; afraid to open in fear of them hurting, she didn’t want any light to hurt them more. Her body stiffened something nudged and scratched deep in the middle of her back, it was uncomfortable she couldn’t quite reach around with her arm to feel what the discomfort or attempt to make it stop.

The scratching made her squirm and wiggle, in the hope that it would stop; a little stretching in her back and it was soon over; instead a tickling sensation replaced it, it wasn’t as uncomfortable.

She forced her eyes open, she could see a new dull light, and more natural than the one she remembered and was used to.

She blinked repeatedly, thankfully it didn’t take them long to adjust. She stood a short while, she had no idea where she had landed or how she would get out, if she ever would but she knew that everything was now different. Standing still concentrating, taking it all in the tickling sensation in her back begun again, making her lift off the ground slightly, it made her gasp. Peering over she shoulder, she noticed wings, yellow silky with five tiny diamonds attached to them, they fluttered gently, they were obviously brand new. She most certainly didn’t begin her journey with them, she couldn’t find instructions; she knew then she would have to be self-taught.

The beams that shone down around her, became wider the further forward she floated; every now and again she could feel herself lowering slightly, encouraging herself to make use of her precious new equipment. It became easier the further she went.

Pleased with herself she figured out the harder she fluttered the higher and slightly quicker she travelled. This felt fun.

The higher she rose, she began to be as high as the birds, they nodded as they passed her, slightly lowering herself she caught sight of the bees, she hoped she could become friends with them, but they looked too busy.

Up ahead she could see an array of colour, pinks of all different shades, bubbles she could see a name similar to her own on there, she wondered if they were destined for her. She chased and played with them for a short while, while they hovered in the calm breeze, until a sudden gust of wind sent them further away from her, causing her to somersault as they floated by. She tried to see where they were from, lowering herself a little, she didn’t want to get too close.

A dark cloud appeared just above her, rain began to fall; they felt heavy on her back, on her wings. She could feel herself getting heavy at the same time; her energy was beginning to fade too. She got closer and closer to the ground, but she couldn’t find the energy to fight it, to keep herself up.

Gently floating lower, until she hovered slightly over ground gently placing her feet on to the ground. Standing still she realised she had landed in what seemed like a garden, turning on the spot she found what looked like an old tree stump, it appeared to be vacant, she felt relieved that she could maybe rest her head for a short while, or at least until she figured out what her next plans would be.


She closed her eyes. Dreaming of new tomorrows.


Note from the Author: Thank you so much for joining me each Friday for these pieces of fiction. They’re different pieces, which I wasn’t intending to publish as part of this series but haven’t been feeling 100%. I love writing fiction, and have loads more to share. 

Thank you for reading my flash fiction. 

Fiction Friday. A Prologue Snippet.

This is an excerpt from some Fiction that I am currently working on. 

Every morning as dawn broke the Church doors would unlock and Amy would take a walk in and around the church grounds; she’d look at the headstones, there were a few new ones; but mainly old and now lost and forgotten. Many thoughts crossed her mind,  even those of wonder –  whether this would soon become her final resting place; wondering if she would even get a headstone and if her unborn baby would be with her.    Amy had even envisaged a burial plot; under a pretty little tree that she imagined would blossom during the summer months; sprinkling petals over her abandoned grave in years to come.

She continued to gently walk aimlessly.   She began to talk a little to her delicate bulging stomach, this would be the only conversation she would have. A cold chill swirled around her;  it was then she decided to go back inside the church; where once again the doors would close magically behind her.

The frail old woman hurriedly approached her; where she became forceful with Amy; almost seemed frustrated with her. Forcefully holding her by the arms while she placed her hand hard onto Amy’s growing stomach, she muttered something quickly and quietly; which sounded like a chant or a spell; willing the birth of the unborn baby quicker.   She ripped her hand away. Amy stepped away quickly; wrapping her arms around her stomach for protection for her unborn child. Frowning at the woman; confused by her new hostile behaviour.

Outside, a blizzard was looming; heavy snow hit the stained glass windows of the church, Amy silently but quickly made her way to the big Oak doors, they hadn’t yet been bolted from her walk outside; she had only assumed she had now outstayed her welcome with Cora the person she had looked to as an angel that had taken care of her these last weeks.   But as she neared them the bolts pulled themselves across to lock the door.   Amy hadn’t noticed that the elderly woman was right behind her; ready to pull Amy away from the door, with some surprising force, to stop the teen from escaping.

She pushed Amy to the floor.   Shocked and frightened she slowly got to her feet; looked at her attacker then looked around. She was looking for some kind of exit and she noticed a little oak door to the side of her; maybe this could be her door…   She pushed, pulled, even kicked it; while tugged at the dirty brass doorknob; with no movement; it was very old and locked.    Cora followed the 14-year old’s every move, every footstep-like a shadow.  She again grabbed Amy with force by her arm.

Pulling her close, she placed her hand tightly onto Amy’s large pregnant stomach; she let out a horrified and painful gasp while tearing herself away from the cold elderly hands, replacing them with her own warm hands, protecting her unborn child.  Cora disappeared.

Amy took the opportunity to try and escape again through the old side door, “Surely there is a way to get out of here?” She muttered to herself. Amy once again kicked and punched the door.  She could see movement out of the corner of her eye, Amy turned to see the not so frail Cora slowly walking effortlessly towards her – as if she was gliding- carrying something in her arms.

Amy began to panic throwing bibles, prayer mats and iron candlestick holders at the woman; all of which missed her.  When Amy failed to hit the woman in self-defence, she began throwing the objects at the ancient church stained glass windows in the hope it could be her escape route; or the very least a passerby would hear. She finally smashed a window; one of which had the beautiful Virgin Mary mastered in to.  This angered the woman; she quickened her pace toward the terrified pregnant girl.

The elderly woman carried a bowl of warm water and fabric – possibly old curtains.  Amy concentrated harder on her escape she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the window she had smashed; for a moment she couldn’t see Cora. The hood of her cloak now rested on her shoulders. Thick, unkempt, white hair down to her shoulder blades.

Cora was able to creep right up behind Amy, pulling her with force off the pew she was standing on to attempt her escape; she hit the floor, hard.  Cora grabbed Amy by a handful of hair; dragging her whilst she kicked. Cora came across a frail, elderly lady; but the truth was she had utter strength behind her. Amy yelled in pain toward the open space at the altar.

Amy silenced herself with fear, now lying on the cold stone floor, too scared to move.  Cora stood over her as she forcefully pulled Amy’s legs to buckle beneath her.  Amy attempted to stop her by kicking which only made Cora angry; making the grip tighter, with that unbelievable strength.  With her long thin pointy fingers, she placed them deep beneath Amy’s tatty long skirt…

It all happened so fast; Cora stood up and took a step back watching as pain ripped through Amy’s tiny teenage body.  Water surrounded the girl making it too slippery for her to stand.  There were waves of pain which paralysed her; all the while she still tried to protect her unborn baby with nothing but just her arms.  Amy thoughts were only to her death, she knew she was about to die, no one would know or even care. Not even her family, she was dead to them, the moment she discovered her pregnancy.  She tried to stand, but could only kneel; she was desperate for the pain to disappear.  Cora continued to stand close, arms folded with no emotion or word to say; she pulled Amy to her feet dragging her a short space to the font; where she submerged the girl’s head into the clear water…


Source: Tumblr

Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction – Ruins

Walking through a red-bricked building, a building I recognised but I couldn’t quite grasp what it was. I knew where I was but I felt lost. As I walked around with my husband, it soon became apparent I was at the hospital. Corridors, there were doors everywhere. They still didn’t look completely recognisable.
We could hear a baby crying, it wasn’t a loud cry, all of the doors we tried were locked or had nothing behind them.
The cry remained at the same volume no matter which direction we stood, where we walked the crying followed.
We found an unlocked door leading to a room full of incubators.
The door behind us slammed shut, we tried the door but it had locked too. Leaving us trapped in the room.
The incubators were empty.

The cot cards all said her name, but there were nurses to each incubator, tending to an empty plastic box. It was confusing. Nurses looked at us, pity eyes. Heads were shaking. Yet nobody moved from their spot. Another door at the other side of the room was slightly open.
Heads down we made a run for it.
The door led to the outside, open air.
But it wasn’t what we were expecting.
As we turned to look at the building, it was a crumbling ruin. Nothing seemed in one piece, rubble replaced the corridors we had not long left behind.
The door we’d used was the only thing that remained standing.
Incubators smashed on the floor, cot cards were strewn from the wind.
There was no explosion, no earthquake.
This thing happened; nothing was the same as it was five minutes ago.

We tried to run, but the rubble was surrounded by metal fences, high with barbed wire circling the top.
The further we went the more fences appeared. It was never-ending.
The building seemed a distance away, the crying baby remained.
No matter how we tried there was no escaping.
We were stuck.
We fell to the floor, heavy with defeat, the night sky drew in.
Our eyes closed, simply because there was nothing else for them to do.

When we woke, the sky was grey but bright. The rubble and fences were still there, but the ruin looked somewhat beautiful.
Daffodils stood in front of the door, they’d also replaced the broken incubators.
Everything was the same but different too.
Escaping was still not an option.
I wake up.

Last week’s fiction if you missed it

Flash Fiction

Flash Fiction – Ned and Olive

“Ned, why are we here again? Every Year you make me visit; each year we do nothing; no contact or anything. Absolutely nothing! Apart from sitting here just watching. Could we not at least have a little fun?”

“I know we come every year but it fascinates me. I like this little tradition it has been done for many, many years. Maybe we’ll plan on doing something next year.”

“You say that every time too.”

Ned and Olive would sit on their seats each year and people watch.

Watching people as they went about their business; some were rushing, others slowly shuffled along their way at a slower pace. Nobody ever seemed to notice that they were being watched. Ned and Olive never had an acknowledgment or a word of hello. They were passed by completely unnoticed.

“You know you don’t have to come Olive.” Ned said to her softly as he took her hand, trying not to take his eyes from the crowds.

“You know that I couldn’t not come, I would miss your eyes light up.” Olive replied.

Ned moved his head for a moment to face Olive. Giving her a kiss on the forehead.

Olive and Ned were very close, and as much as Olive wasn’t keen on his wild adventures, she enjoyed his company more.

Their favourite time of the evening was coming, even Olive admitted to it being her favourite part too. The groups of people were slowing down, there were smaller groups bunched together. Families and friends, strangers all stood together in the same area, waiting and watching. All Ned and Olive could see were back of heads; they weren’t the type to get too close, or too involved.

They just loved the magic, the anticipation. The couple had come to learn that this was a New Year’s Eve celebration; it was their favourite one too. Ahead of the crowd was a large clock, brightly lit the hands moving into the direction of a countdown. It was almost time.

5,4,3,2,1!! HAPPY NEW YEAR! Booms filled the skies with bright lights hitting the clouds. Boom.

“Come on Olive, quick.” Ned grabbed her by the hand.

“Where are we going?” She replied as they moved to their vehicle. “We will miss our favourite show.”

“No we won’t.” Ned responded excitedly.

As he sat behind the controls, he looked at Olive. “Let’s take a closer look.”

It wasn’t something they had ever done, their vehicle rose and moved amongst the fireworks. Looking around them they could see the sparks, it was a perfect light show; from down below they could see people pointing to the show; but their fingers also followed Ned and Olive’s movements too.

The Glowing red light which lit up their ship had remained on – they had been seen.

It was time for them to leave, following the highest of fireworks until they were no longer in sight, out of the Earth’s atmosphere into the starry space; making their way home to Mars.

“Same again next year, Olive?”

“Yes, please.”

Flash Fiction

New Feature and A Shake Up

Happy New Year!


If you are a regular reader you will know I have been blogging for a long while, both here and over on Melody and Me. I adore writing so it only seemed right that I had these blogs where I could pursue some kind of hobby. The things I wrote about our memories, just flowed.

I moved to self-hosted in September and somehow I found myself becoming less and less unique to me; and more and more trying to be like the thousands of other bloggers out there. Which isn’t a bad thing, but it can feel at times very stressful, competitive to try and at least get your work read.

Then as I was writing “another” random Christmas post trying to keep up with these hundreds of bloggers, it suddenly dawned on me that I had started to hate the thing I loved, this one thing for as long as I can remember loving; I started to fall out of love with it.

The blogging community are wonderfully supportive; and of course there some amazing ones out there. I just lost my way; and was holding on to ropes for which I have no clue to what they are for. I even came to a stage where I wanted to stop completely; even Melody and Me- which is definitely something I didn’t want to do.


So I made a decision to find my “muchness”, MY style again. Back to sharing our family; our memories.

As I have mentioned I have always loved writing, which includes wring stories; I have been in the process of writing books for years, but just haven’t quite finished them; several unfinished books and years later I need to now shake myself into getting past this imaginary fear and do it – complete these books.

As someone with a very active imagination through being awake and when dreaming, I have ideas filed in my head, notebooks, and computer of stories. .Short bursts of fiction, waiting to be released, leading me to begin a new feature on the blog.


Fiction Friday!

Each Friday I will be publishing a short story, fictional no regular theme to them (unless I happen to place a two-part piece in there.)

I am a little nervous about this feature; writing about memories is comfortable – easy I guess; as I am writing in the moment. It’s family life.

Fiction reaches out in so many ways, different genres; different tales and scenarios. I just need to stop letting fear get in the way. I really am excited about this new feature, have plans and ideas right up until next Christmas!


I have recently joined a local writers group where we’re all set to motivate each other to at least write something – a page, chapter; anything which gets us doing the thing we love. So I will aim to finish at least one of the children’s adventure books I have started; plus a supernatural thriller too.

The Red Head Diaries

Of course I will still be writing our memories and life in general. I just would like to add something a little extra, and eventually find my love for writing and of course blogging again.

I really hope you will love the short stories as much as I have releasing them.

The first one will be this coming Friday – The first Friday of 2018!!

See you then.