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I wander the familiar upper space living in the past—a refuge in my eternal reality. As I was in life, I am unnoticed in death.

 

 

About Leanne Sype

 

Leanne is a coffee-addicted freelance writer and editor who believes happiness is found in large slices of chocolate cake. Her favorite color is orange, and she loves connecting in community with other writers. Leanne is the founder of Pen to Paper Communications where she indulges her passion in helping individuals and businesses find their story and tell it well. She lives in Portland, OR with her three elderly cats, her husband, and her two adorable kids, all of whom constantly give her good writing material. You can connect with Leanne through leannesype.wordpress.com or on Twitter @pentopapercom.

Week of 10/3/2012

Week of 10/3/2012

 

Photo courtesy of Carrie K. Sorensen

 

 

Words Required

 

Weather

 

Cemetery

 

Lump

 

Printer

 

Recipe

 

 

 

 

Do You Believe in Fairy Tales? by Heather Musk

 

Terri crouched down behind the bushes to keep out of sight, she didn't want them to know she was here. She'd had to wait all week to come back, the weather keeping her away with its continual wind and rain. She peered down into the pool below, the noise from the waterfall filling her ears. There was no sign of anyone yet, but she was patient, she could wait. She'd heard all the tales of this place since she was in high school, but like everyone else had thought them nothing but folk stories.

 

That was until the night her and Steve had come this way, looking for a good spot. All the usual places to go were much too crowded these days so they'd had to seek out their own space. It was purely by accident that they'd found their way here. She could still feel the lump on the back of her head from where she'd fallen halfway down the hill.

 

Steve had come racing down after her like some sort of sprinter to see if she was alright and they'd both been stunned to see the reaction from the water. They'd seen nothing until that point, when three huge splashes were heard and three dark figures disappeared under the waterfall. Ever since then Terri had been captivated by what they'd seen, or thought they'd seen anyway, and was determined to find out what they were.

 

After a few visits at different times of the day she soon realised they would mostly come out at night, and would sit quietly in her hiding place and just watch them. Her friends never knew where she was, they were more interested in hanging out at the cemetery, trying to decide what the occupants had all done in a previous life. She was more fascinated by this other world that was thought non-existent. She brought her flask of tea and her homemade muffins made from her nanna's recipe, and tried every now and then to get a bit closer.

 

One night she'd left a muffin out on a rock to see if it would attract interest. The only interest there was came in the return of the muffin sailing through the air in her direction. She was pretty sure she knew they were watching.

 

It had been too long since her last visit and she'd worried they'd moved on, but she didn't have long to wait to be assured of their presence again. They were all out tonight to bask in the fresh evening air, the first night without rain for five days.

 

Tonight Terri had moved a bit further down towards the waters edge, the closest that she'd ever dare go. She was so intent on watching across the water she didn't even notice the figure watching her from nearby.

 

 

About Heather Musk

 

I wish I could say that I've been writing ever since I can remember and it's been a part of my life since I've been on the planet, but the truth is I can't.

 

It has taken the best part of 30 years to find this hidden thing within me, which is the need to write. It's my own kind of therapy, a way to engross myself in something else away from my life, my own bubble of the universe.

 

I'm still at the very beginning of this journey, learning and honing my skills. On the way I also have my husband and five year old daughter to contend with, as well as working towards an English degree with The Open University and working nearly full time for a science research institute. What can I say? I like to keep myself busy.

 

To join me on my travels and follow my progress head over to readingwritingeverything-heather.blogspot.co.uk.

 

 

 

 

Friends and Enemies by Melissa Gardiner

 

The weather was just starting to turn as the party reached the falls. They had been hiking since 5:30am and their bodies ached with fatigue and the weight of their supplies.

 

"How much farther do you think this place is?" Sally asked, as they came to a stop at the base of the river.

 

"It should be around here somewhere. Keep your eyes open." The Leader yelled over the sound of water crashing down over the lip of the flooded river.

 

"What exactly are we looking for?" The fat one called Norma wheezed. She reached into the pocket of her jeans with one chubby hand and pulled out her asthma pump, sucking on the end of it until her bloodshot eyes bulged out of her head like a cartoon coyote.

 

"I would have thought that was obvious." The Leader sighed irritably, already annoyed that it had taken them two hours longer than planned to reach the falls because of Norma's phlegmy hacking.

 

"Tombstones right?" Sally asked, reaching for the binoculars around her neck and scanning the dense, wet landscape in front of them.

 

The Leader rolled her eyes, "What else would you expect to see in a cemetery?"

 

"I don't understand why we had to come all this way. There are perfectly good cemeteries back in the city. The Number 4 bus takes you right past Horizon Place." Norma choked, smacking her mammoth chest to loosen the thick build-up in her lungs.

 

"Horizon Place?" The Leader spat, glaring at fat Norma, pink and putrid in the early evening light.

 

"Horizon Place is filled with nobodies. Pathetic, parasitic human corpses that never mattered. Why would I want to connect with any of them?"

 

"Who is in this particular cemetery that you want to 'connect' with then?" Norma challenged, folding her fat arms across her chest and glaring back at The Leader.

 

"I see it, I see it!" Sally squealed from behind her binoculars.

 

"Where?" The Leader yanked the binoculars from around Sally's neck and pressed them to her face.

 

"There, just below that curved tree … do you see it? It's that statue of the 3-winged angel you told me about, that's good right?" Sally yelped with delight, hopping around The Leader like an excited puppy.

 

"That's excellent, Sally." The Leader smiled triumphantly. "Come on. If we're lucky we will make it there before dark."

 

"I'm not going." Norma said suddenly.

 

"What did you say?" The Leader glared back at her, watching as beads of sweat trickled down the side of Norma's bulbous face.

 

"It's a recipe for disaster and I'm not going." Norma hesitated slightly under The Leader's penetrating stare. "I don't feel too good."

 

"You don't feel too good?" The Leader hissed, "Listen to me, Norma May Printer. You are coming with us. You are the crucial part of this ritual."

 

Norma frowned, swallowing a fresh lump of phlegm that had risen in her throat, "What ritual? I thought we were just doing another one of your stupid séances?"

 

The Leader looked at Sally and they smiled knowingly at each, "Poor, sweet, naïve Norma. Honey. There will be no séance tonight. Just a human sacrifice."

 

 

About Melissa Gardiner

 

Melissa Gardiner was born on December 11, 1985. She grew up in Port Elizabeth, South Africa and attended Collegiate Girls' School. Melissa began writing at an early age, typing short stories on her grandfather's rusted typewriter at her family's dining room table, and continued to write throughout her school years, winning various academic awards for her written work. Melissa describes herself as an "observer with a love for detail" and it was this quality together with her love for the writing that led Melissa to study towards a degree in Journalism and Media studies at Rhodes University, where she graduated at the end of 2007. Melissa is currently living in London and writing her first novel. She blogs about life as a 'wannabe writer' over at My Unpublished Life (http://unpublishedworksofme.blogspot.co.uk/)

Week of 10/17/2012

Week of 10/17/2012

 

Photo courtesy of Kristoffer Sorensen

 

 

Words Required

 

Bird

 

Kid

 

Loom

 

Soldier

 

Ostrich

 

 

 

 

Traveling Man by Carrie K Sorensen

 

A storm loomed in the horizon, threatening the delay of flights later on in the day. Peter checked his watch. He was supposed to leave in an hour. It was a race now. Time against a wind carrying heavy clouds.

 

Peter walked away from the airport window, deciding to grab a seat in case he was stuck and the airport began to pack in more than it could hold. He threw his coat and bag in the seat next to him, then dug out his laptop. He didn't turn it on, though. Not yet. They should be calling his plane soon if it was going to leave.

 

Peter's attention turned to some artificial gun noises and laughter. A couple kids were playing soldier around a small group of chairs. He was surprised kids still played that game these days - even more surprised their parents let them. Then one of the kids shouted, "I'll get you, Spiderman!" and their play made a bit more sense.

 

Peter jumped up when his plane was called. Looking out the window showed the wind hadn't been fast enough. He should be able to get out on time. He shoved his laptop in his bag and slung it over his shoulder without even zipping it closed. Coat over his arm, he got in line to claim his first class seat.

 

Peter settled in next to the plastic window, watching the clouds, not quite convinced the slowly filling airplane was still going to get off the ground in time. He finally closed his window, deciding to take a page out of the ostrich book. He didn't often take a bird's philosophy, but today he could do with a 'out of sight, out of mind' mentality.

 

Peter closed his eyes and took in the sounds around him. They would take off. They were heading away from the storm. He would be on time, make his presentation, then head home later in the

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