Face | a little bird tweets

May 20 2014

Life

Ernest Burroughs pulled the well-thumbed life manual close to his face. His cataract eyes failed him; so he sniffed out the written words with his white-haired nostrils. The words travelled his nasal paths to his brain; where he chewed on them vigorously, squeezing them of their collective meaning. Billions of random words danced atop his eyeballs like small dazzling clouds, when his chest tightened. And before he could impart the revealed recipe of immortality to mankind, a force pulled him through a white tunnel.

Tagged Brain, Calculation, Cataract, Chest, Clouds, Creative Writing, Elderly, Eyes, Face, Fiction, Flash fiction, Formula, Immortal, Immortality, Life, Mankind, Manual, Nose, Nostrils, old-age, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Recipe, Revealed, Science, Science Fiction, Tunnel, Up to 100 Words, Words, Writing

Feb 13 2014

20 Comments

Flash Fiction

Clown

I had been drawn into a dark circus of a world; a world where high-wired voices had giggled so delicately, over nothing.

This is the spirit of the circus, they had voiced with curled lips, and it’s about laughing over fake flowers, to entertain the curious.

Summers had slipped, and my laughs had burned out like old rings of fire. The mouths of jugglers had wheezed at my woeful face.

A circus is no place for a sad heart, they’d chorused.

Tagged Circus, Clown, Creative Writing, Entertain, Face, Fake, Fiction, Fire, Flash fiction, flowers, Giggled, Heart, Jugglers, Laughing, lips, NewMenu1, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Sad, Voices, World

Jul 20 2013

15 Comments

Flash Fiction

Reflections of Lady Abigail

I yearn for the pucker of youth that I once relished,

I ache for the shimmering face that could arrest the eyes of others,

A pursing of my lips only discloses the sunken contours of my face,

A wild flaring of my eyes only exudes bleakness,

My soul is dim,

I’m a shattered rose,

I’m crumbling,

I’m withering,

I crave the fragrance of light musk, summer dresses, flower picking, the lightness of step.

Time, you wait for nobody!

Time, you are not my friend!

I close my eyes in fear of my knowledge,

Inside I cry,

I fly,

I die.

Tagged 100 Words, age, Creative Writing, cry, decay, die, dresses, Eyes, Face, fear, Fiction, flowers, fly, lips, musk, NewMenu1, old-age, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Reflection, rose, Soul, summer, Time, vanity, wither, youth

Apr 21 2013

9 Comments

Flash Fiction

Elsie

Elsie swirled the teacup around in her crumpled, conical hands; working the tea-leaves into a symbol. She had provided readings for many people over many years; it had given them an insight into their future.

‘What can you see, Elsie?’ The young woman asked.

‘My dear, I saw my own face merged with a skull. The skull is a symbol of demise. I am going to die very soon.’

The woman trembled at Elsie’s words. As she became pinned to her chair with fear, she witnessed Elsie’s face contort; her eyes bulge and her head slither slowly to the table.

Tagged 100 Words, Chair, Death, Demise, Eyes, Face, Fiction, Hands, Psychological-horror, Psychological-thriller, Readings, Skull, Symbol, Table, Tea-cup, Tea-leaf, Tea-leaves, Writing

Jun 13 2012

Little Doll

You were Isobel Isaac to the world; to me, you were Little Doll. Your enchanting smile would leave paparazzi hypnotised at the lens; they failed to detect the cracks in your face; the heavily overworked Maybelline eyes, that were merely a make-up-of-the-season disguise for the early morning Napoleon brandy drinking sessions, we so often spent.