Tag: fiction

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Rescuer

I turned the ignition and started up Dad’s car. This was a desperate act, as I knew I’d be in much trouble in the morning. But the tiny puppy snuggled into my chest, needed help. Only a Vet would be useful, and that meant taking Dad’s car to the nearest Animal Hospital.

The car engine rumbled, and then revved. Reversing out of the car port, I started up the road. The little lump in the front of my jumper wiggled. Keeping to the left side of the road, I drove to the nearest place where I thought I’d find a Vet.

A lady in a white coat came walking out of the Animal Hospital.

‘Come here, child.  What do you have there?’

Realising that she was locking up before going home, I knew I was very lucky. She was an animal lover, through and through.

‘It’s a little new born puppy, I found,’ I informed her, handing over the scrap of fur.

The Vet took him, and held him close to her chest.

‘Hello, Little Fella,’ she whispered. And then to me, ‘We better get him inside. There’s a Mother Dog in there who has puppies about his age. She’s a good girl. I’ll see if she’ll adopt him.

I followed the lady into the building, and through the empty waiting room. She stopped me there, with a wave of her hand. And so I sat in a seat and waited. Through the open door, I could see her walk to a large basket on the floor.

A female dog lay there, comfortable in her bed, surrounded by little furry wriggling bodies. The Vet held the little puppy close to the dog’s nose, and she sniffed the new comer. And then licked his tiny body.

And then allowed the Vet to place him in her basket. The dog encouraged the tiny puppy to snuggle up to her.

The Vet turned to me, and gave me a thumbs up.

The tiny puppy would be okay. I smiled back.

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Ancestor

The swimmer kept doing his laps. The ocean pool, cemented into what was once a rock lagoon, was bitterly cold, and the icy wind only made it more so. But it reminded him of home, and of Neptune.

A woman stood on the shore, a collection of seashells in her hand. By the make up on her face and the blue wig covering a tightly wound bun, she could have been an Actor.

Finally, the swimmer pushed himself up onto the ledge that ran the perimeter of the ocean pool. Looking up as he vigorously rubbed his body dry with a towel, he saw her. A wave and a smile greeted her, and then he was on the footpath winding its way back to the beach.

“Kevin, aren’t you cold?” Brown eyes gave a troubled look at the scantily clad man, as he approached.

“Yeah. A coffee will heat me up.”
Kevin smiled at Katherine, as he started towards the black Volkswagon.

Later, Katherine sat at the Cafe, 2 lattes sitting on the table infront of her.

“They’re cold now. You took too long.”

Kevin’s golden eyes crinkled as he grinned. He pulled out a chair and leaned back.

His eyes were unusual, she had always thought. And so was his obsession with swimming that ocean pool. Katherine had resigned herself to never understanding.

The red headed man across from her, raised the mug to his lips.

“This tracksuit is too warm. Mind if i take off my jumper?”

“No. There’s no one here to see.”

A head emerged as the navy jumper fell to the ground. With his chest bare, he could have been a Greek God.

Sighing, Katherine met his gaze. “You’re crazy. I swear you’re part Mer-man.”

The golden eyes crinkled again as he smiled.

*If only she knew my father* But his smile hid his true thoughts.

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Bedmates,

“Potatoes,” swore Tommy. He was standing next to the little dragon that guarded the garden, his face scowling. His blue eyes were focused on the sky.

I lay down the twig I had been using when sparring with him earlier and stood next to him, trying to see what he had noticed.

He said we were bedmates. My word was Lovers. The difference in words was significant to me for one important reason. It was said that a curse had been cast on the family a long time ago, that if anyone caused a fiasco, there would be an attack by a Gargoyle. And the term Lovers, I felt, would cause less trouble.

Something shadowed us, and we both looked up. Bat-like great wings, and an ugly faced creature swooped low.

“GET DOWN,” Tommy yelled, pulling me to the ground. My hands dug into the garden where I landed, crushing my Mother’s crysanthemums.

The creature missed, but I could hear its wings beating the air. Gasping, I felt wind against my face as it came for us again. My blonde locks fell across my eyes.

Suddenly, it squealed. I realised then, that I had closed my eyes. Opening them again, and blinking the hair away, I was surprised to see a little dragon in the sky, as the bat-like creature disappeared towards the horizon.

The little dragon landed in the garden and became a statue, right where the garden ornament had been.

Tommy reached out his hand and helped me up. It was then I noticed a black and white photo in his other hand.

“What’s that?” I asked him.

Grinning, he handed it to me. There, staring out at me, was the little dragon, identical to the one now innocently sitting in the garden.

“See. I said we could use whatever words we liked to describe our relationship.”

My eyes met his.

“This is a photo of the garden when my Grandfather was alive. He told me a family legend that *our* family is protected from evil by this little dragon.

Hugging him, my eyes pricked with tears.

He hugged me back, tightly, and I realised he’d been scared by the Gargoyle attack too.

“Maybe I can call us Lovers instead of Bedmates,” he murmured into my hair.
“That was close. And I don’t want to risk losing you again.”

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Big Billy

The wind was soft on his face, but the blood was pounding in his ears. He had never climbed a tree this high before. This tree climbing challenge was off the charts. It was even a bigger challenge than asking out Olivia, the most popular girl in the school.

“Climb Big Billy,” taunted Craig.

“Yeah, go on, Brendan. You can do it,” called out Chris.

Brendan had arisen to the dare. Big Billy was the tallest Eucalypt around these parts, and the tree had never been climbed before.

The group of school boys were too scared to scale Big Billy, so they had dared the shy bespectacled Brendan.

Wanting to prove himself had spurred him to action, with complete disregard to his own safety. Now, way up high, he was having misgivings.

All he wanted now was to have his two feet squarely on the ground.

“Um. Hello?” said a timid voice. “What are you doing in my tree?”

Glancing to his right, Brendan almost lost his grip on the bough he was clinging to. There, securely and serenely sitting in a fork, was a girl about his age, from school.

“S-sorry,” he stammered. “Is this *your* tree?”

“Yes. It’s my favourite place. I love the peace. No one’s been brave enough to climb as far as me.”

Brendan held his breath. Was she actually blushing?

Then he had a rush of excitement. She thought he was brave!

“Will you go out with me?” He held his breath again.

“Yes, of course I will.”

And with that, they climbed down the tree together, for both Craig and Chris to see.

As he and the girl came down out of the last branch, Craig and Chris were waiting.

But Brendan didn’t care.

“Hello? Meet my new date,” Olivia announced.

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Free

Sobbing, I pushed my way into the Forbidden Garden. It was a secret walled garden, where my Mother and Father once met. Now, with both dead, it had been forgotten. But I had been jilted. Originally in line for the throne, I had been disgraced. For my evil Uncle had changed the law by making it illegal for a woman to inherit the kingdom, hence cementing himself as King. And me? I was only good now, to be a Pawn in his dealings.

The gate was rusty and took a few shoves before it squeaked on its hinges, to reveal the sorry state of this once beautiful place. The pathways were littered with fallen leaves, and plants trailed over the edges of the garden beds. A colourful confusion of flowers and weeds tumbled over tree branches, and the tree branches themselves were too heavy to lift above the mass of vines that conspired to drag them to the ground.

On the other end of the garden, another gate had led to the outside wall and into the wilderness beyond. It was no completely gone.

Green algae and slush glugged out of the fountain in the centre, and the chair where I had sat as a child, with Mum playing with my hair, was rusty and broken. Just as I thought it was a mistake to seek comfort in such a forgotten place, I heard a rustling.

Caught on my Father’s favourite rose bush, was an animal. I crept forward, until I saw it’s wounded paw, trapped by the thorns and torn to bloody ribbons. Wiping the tears from my eyes, so I could see, I felt instant empathy. Just like this beautiful tiger, I too, felt trapped by my Uncle.

She was skinny and her fur was matted. She was tired and elderly, looking like she wouldn’t survive another Winter in the wild where she belonged.

Her deep brown eyes were soft with pain, as she sought my own. Courageously, I crept forward, disentangling her paw from the thorny branches of the rosebush. She whined, but did not move, as I released her.

Feeling more confident now, I tore a strip from my beautiful white dress, and sponged some of the oozing black blood away, until I could see the wound was clean. The tiger winced but did not try to hurt me.

When done, I sat back to see my handy work. With a contented sigh, she leaned against me.

Finally, for the first time since my Uncle had usurped me, I felt I had the strength to fight him. Tomorrow, I would see which Courtiers would support me in leading a wedge against my Mother’s brother.

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Nanowrimo

So, I’m up for the ultimate challenge.

Can I, a humble Blogger and Social Media Coordinator, come up with
50 000 words in 30 days?

The proof is in the pudding.

There’s a chapter book, lurking in my laptop, that requires an overhaul.

Cheating?

Maybe… but maybe not.

You see, I wrote more a plot line than an actual story. Now, it’s time to write the story.

At the moment, it has been named “The Festival.”

So, fingers crossed, some time in 2020, I’ll be posting about it being published.

Can you be my cheer squad?
Will you support my first ever Nanowrimo?

For more information on Nanowrimo, look up

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Writing

For those who have always known me, you will be well versed in my love for writing.

Currently, I have my first book being published.

Bartholomew, an Australian native bird known as a Tawny Frogmouth, follows the story of a young fledgling who strives to live his dream.

For pre orders, just email me at lizseverest@gmail.com

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Gun

Hi. I’m Bruce, and I have a tale to tell.

Something extraordinary happened to me a little while ago.

I was minding my own business, sitting on my front lawn with my brothers and sisters.

Then suddenly, a light appeared on the horizon.

Being an adventurous type of Gnome, and having been given to my owner as a joke, I stood my ground while the other Gnomes all ran my away and hid.

Now, Gnomes are known to be peaceful creatures. We’re often depicted holding flowers and watering cans.

Not me. The joke was that I came with my own gun. My own pathetic excuse for a gun.

Being made out of clay, it was useless.

Now, this night, I was abducted by aliens. Little green guys came rushing out as the light revealed itself to be a space shuttle.

I was dragged into it’s depths.

Then, I was held in a laboratory and prodded and poked.

I didn’t know how to escape. I was held in outer space in a space shuttle with no way of going back to Earth.

Finally, in a fit of temper, I did something that no Gnome had ever done before.

I threatened them with my gun.

Then, my fingers slipped and hit the trigger.

A beam of light shot out and nuked a little green guy.

The rest of them all ran and hid.

I grabbed one as he ducked to hide, and said to him,

“Take me back home and no one will get hurt.”

He jumped up and down, calling something out in a strange language.

The alien must have understood me, because next thing, I was standing back on my own lawn.

It’s a true story.

Who would know my little clay gun would have been able to work in outer space.

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Fractured Faith writing challenge

A receipt for a banana, rice and a coffee.

Tonight. It was tonight. Tonight when i had the in laws over for dinner.

What to cook?

My sister was a fussy eater and they were really her in laws, not mine. Her little villa was too small to host the larger family we were meeting with. So i had invited everyone to my place.

And with a baby on the way, she had left me to do all the planning and catering.

My sister hated fruit, but i really thought the best desserts all used fruit in them. How to compromise?

These thoughts were running through my head as i stood in the large supermarket, staring at the endless shelves, trying to dream something up.

Suddenly i had it!

I had the compromise!

With more confidence than i felt, i strode to the aisle containing rice, and grabbed a bag. Then i marched to the fresh produce part of the store and picked up a solitary banana.

I’d make rice pudding and put a single banana into the recipe to keep both of us happy.

After paying for it, i stood outside the supermarket for a little bit.

My brother in law, my sister’s husband, rang to say he’d be late in picking me up.

I wandered back into the store.

I needed a coffee!