Zoe Adams's Blog, page 12
September 28, 2013
Writing Challenge - Day 13
To all who are reading this,
Day thirteen on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This is a relatively early post - nearly twelve hours in sync with the last. Strange... And also convenient, as I have plans for the day.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the thirteenth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGE
DAY 13. - SAND
HARMLESS PRANK HAUNTS TOWNSPEOPLE The headline is screaming at me from across the café and I sink lower in my seat, as I wait for my sandwich to arrive. The waitress has no consideration for those busy people on their lunch breaks, and is more interested in talking to the older gentleman with the lewd gaze. He gives her tips for being, "such a nice young thing". I tear my gaze from the newspaper in the woman's hands. I know the article off by heart. And I should. I wrote it, after all. Five years ago, a group of teenagers had filled tatty old clothes with sand, and buried them on the beach. Each item was in a different position, with a piece of cloth left unearthed. Like a burial gone wrong almost. It was macabre really. That kids would mimic something like it. The worst thing was, when an early morning jogger had gone past, they had reported it. Police and journalists had gathered and found it a hoax. A cruel trick from bored teenagers, who should have been at home, revising for their exams. They never found the kids responsible. Now it had happened again. And it was exactly the same scene as before. Right down to the last detail. White ankle socks - toes upright. Blue jeans - knee bent. Long sleeved red t-shirt - arm crooked. I sigh as the waitress finally brings me the sandwich. As I stare at it, I contemplate whether to ditch it and grab a tray of chips instead. It looks limp, lifeless, like the cloth bodies I had studied, with a photographer at my side. The white of the bread, the red of the tomatoes - even the blue of my energy drink I'd bought just to get change. It's all connected. I check my phone and realise the time. I wolf down the sandwich and drain the bottle. I crumple the napkin and take up my handbag, checking for my notepads and pens. I'm due to report a local school event (some charity fundraising thing) but as I leave the café, I stop. The wind whistles past, kicking up more sand and grit. Like it did five years ago with Angela and Alan by my sides. Like it did three nights ago, as I stood alone, admiring my handiwork.
THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013) Currently reading: Omens by Kelley Armstrong
Day thirteen on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This is a relatively early post - nearly twelve hours in sync with the last. Strange... And also convenient, as I have plans for the day.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the thirteenth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGE
DAY 13. - SAND
HARMLESS PRANK HAUNTS TOWNSPEOPLE The headline is screaming at me from across the café and I sink lower in my seat, as I wait for my sandwich to arrive. The waitress has no consideration for those busy people on their lunch breaks, and is more interested in talking to the older gentleman with the lewd gaze. He gives her tips for being, "such a nice young thing". I tear my gaze from the newspaper in the woman's hands. I know the article off by heart. And I should. I wrote it, after all. Five years ago, a group of teenagers had filled tatty old clothes with sand, and buried them on the beach. Each item was in a different position, with a piece of cloth left unearthed. Like a burial gone wrong almost. It was macabre really. That kids would mimic something like it. The worst thing was, when an early morning jogger had gone past, they had reported it. Police and journalists had gathered and found it a hoax. A cruel trick from bored teenagers, who should have been at home, revising for their exams. They never found the kids responsible. Now it had happened again. And it was exactly the same scene as before. Right down to the last detail. White ankle socks - toes upright. Blue jeans - knee bent. Long sleeved red t-shirt - arm crooked. I sigh as the waitress finally brings me the sandwich. As I stare at it, I contemplate whether to ditch it and grab a tray of chips instead. It looks limp, lifeless, like the cloth bodies I had studied, with a photographer at my side. The white of the bread, the red of the tomatoes - even the blue of my energy drink I'd bought just to get change. It's all connected. I check my phone and realise the time. I wolf down the sandwich and drain the bottle. I crumple the napkin and take up my handbag, checking for my notepads and pens. I'm due to report a local school event (some charity fundraising thing) but as I leave the café, I stop. The wind whistles past, kicking up more sand and grit. Like it did five years ago with Angela and Alan by my sides. Like it did three nights ago, as I stood alone, admiring my handiwork.
THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013) Currently reading: Omens by Kelley Armstrong
September 27, 2013
Writing Challenge - Day 12
To all who are reading this,
Day twelve on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This is a late one and I apologise, but I've had issues going on today.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the twelfth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGE
DAY 12. - HEARTS
"Love hurts. Love sucks. Love kills." Christine repeated the mantra as she pummelled the pillow. She was stupid to have told him tonight. It was bad enough that she couldn't blame it on alcohol - she was completely sober. They'd had a good dance at the gig. They were both friends with the singer of the band, Sugar Skull, who had been the third act of the night. It had been a good set, a mix of covers and original material - stuff you could dance like an idiot to. She remembered the way Ewan had held her hips as they had swayed to the beat. The way he had spun her in a wide circle, and helped her up as she tripped over her own boots. How he had brushed the hair behind her ear, careful not to catch her new helix piercing. And that's when she blurted out: "I love you." His face and hers had flushed red. He dropped her hands and stuttered - something he only did when he was nervous. Christine had screwed up. She had run out of the hall, and through the double doors. She pushed her cloakroom ticket into the hands of the bored attendant, who in turn pushed the faux leather handbag and jacket her way. She had run all the way home. Her parents were surprised at the least to see her so early. Upstairs in her room, Christine had scrubbed her face of make-up and brushed the copious amounts of spray from her hair. She tossed her going out clothes onto the floor, along with her jacket and bag. She pulled on her comfiest, oldest pyjama's and sobbed into her pillow, the quilt pulled over her head. She didn't want to go to college tomorrow. It would be torture - she would have to see Ewan and relive the embarrassment, and the humiliation, the... Her phone beeped in her pyjama bottom pocket. Expecting a message from Louise, she opened the text. Her jaw dropped instead. You're so fucking cute, you know that? And for the record, I love you too. E x x x She had only just finished reading it again when another text came through. It was his name, followed by a red heart shaped emoticon and her name. Ewan <3 Christine. THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013) Currently reading: Omens by Kelley Armstrong
Day twelve on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This is a late one and I apologise, but I've had issues going on today.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the twelfth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGE
DAY 12. - HEARTS
"Love hurts. Love sucks. Love kills." Christine repeated the mantra as she pummelled the pillow. She was stupid to have told him tonight. It was bad enough that she couldn't blame it on alcohol - she was completely sober. They'd had a good dance at the gig. They were both friends with the singer of the band, Sugar Skull, who had been the third act of the night. It had been a good set, a mix of covers and original material - stuff you could dance like an idiot to. She remembered the way Ewan had held her hips as they had swayed to the beat. The way he had spun her in a wide circle, and helped her up as she tripped over her own boots. How he had brushed the hair behind her ear, careful not to catch her new helix piercing. And that's when she blurted out: "I love you." His face and hers had flushed red. He dropped her hands and stuttered - something he only did when he was nervous. Christine had screwed up. She had run out of the hall, and through the double doors. She pushed her cloakroom ticket into the hands of the bored attendant, who in turn pushed the faux leather handbag and jacket her way. She had run all the way home. Her parents were surprised at the least to see her so early. Upstairs in her room, Christine had scrubbed her face of make-up and brushed the copious amounts of spray from her hair. She tossed her going out clothes onto the floor, along with her jacket and bag. She pulled on her comfiest, oldest pyjama's and sobbed into her pillow, the quilt pulled over her head. She didn't want to go to college tomorrow. It would be torture - she would have to see Ewan and relive the embarrassment, and the humiliation, the... Her phone beeped in her pyjama bottom pocket. Expecting a message from Louise, she opened the text. Her jaw dropped instead. You're so fucking cute, you know that? And for the record, I love you too. E x x x She had only just finished reading it again when another text came through. It was his name, followed by a red heart shaped emoticon and her name. Ewan <3 Christine. THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013) Currently reading: Omens by Kelley Armstrong
September 26, 2013
Writing Challenge - Day 11
To all who are reading this,
Day eleven on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This is yet another one written on my mobile and transferred into Blogger, but this was done in the dead of night, when I was supposed to be sleeping, but couldn't.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the eleventh story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 11. - BLOOD
Warren had never seen so much blood in all his life. He hadn't meant to do it - he really hadn't. The knife... It just slipped. Students had run out of the Home Economics classroom as fast as their legs would carry them. The tutor had pressed herself flat against a table filled with equipment and ingredients, her mobile phone clutched in her hand. She had called the security and the headmaster. He in turn, had called the police and Warren was certain that they would be on the way by now. He hadn't meant to do it. If Jake hadn't pushed him, he wouldn't have felt the urge to strike out and silence him. He wouldn't have lunged and struck out with the kitchen knife, like he had seen characters do in video games. The movement had caught Jake off hand and he had stumbled backwards into the side board. Warren might be small and skinny, but his movements were precise. Jake's strangled scream still rung in his ears. The body of his defeated bully had sunk to the linoleum floor of the classroom. He wasn't moving anymore, yet his blood continued to seep out in great waves. His eyes were glassy, and his face pale. The blood marred Warren's skin. It frightened him, but at the same time, he felt... Well, relieved. At peace. Jake wouldn't pick on him anymore. Neither would any of his cronies. He would never have his pants pulled down, his hair cut viciously, or his body littered with bruises. An odd sort of smile crept onto his face and he heard the tutor wail softly to herself. In fact, when the police finally made their way through to him, Warren had managed to finish preparing his chicken and vegetable pie. As the police read him his rights, forensics were brought in. A young woman took a look at the body and then at Warren, her face full of pity. The handcuffs were cold on his skinny battered wrists. As he was escorted from the room, he turned to the Home Ec tutor, Mrs Windsor. "It will need forty five minutes, on gas mark six. Thanks," he said with a smile. THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013) Currently reading: Omens by Kelley Armstrong
Day eleven on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This is yet another one written on my mobile and transferred into Blogger, but this was done in the dead of night, when I was supposed to be sleeping, but couldn't.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the eleventh story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 11. - BLOOD
Warren had never seen so much blood in all his life. He hadn't meant to do it - he really hadn't. The knife... It just slipped. Students had run out of the Home Economics classroom as fast as their legs would carry them. The tutor had pressed herself flat against a table filled with equipment and ingredients, her mobile phone clutched in her hand. She had called the security and the headmaster. He in turn, had called the police and Warren was certain that they would be on the way by now. He hadn't meant to do it. If Jake hadn't pushed him, he wouldn't have felt the urge to strike out and silence him. He wouldn't have lunged and struck out with the kitchen knife, like he had seen characters do in video games. The movement had caught Jake off hand and he had stumbled backwards into the side board. Warren might be small and skinny, but his movements were precise. Jake's strangled scream still rung in his ears. The body of his defeated bully had sunk to the linoleum floor of the classroom. He wasn't moving anymore, yet his blood continued to seep out in great waves. His eyes were glassy, and his face pale. The blood marred Warren's skin. It frightened him, but at the same time, he felt... Well, relieved. At peace. Jake wouldn't pick on him anymore. Neither would any of his cronies. He would never have his pants pulled down, his hair cut viciously, or his body littered with bruises. An odd sort of smile crept onto his face and he heard the tutor wail softly to herself. In fact, when the police finally made their way through to him, Warren had managed to finish preparing his chicken and vegetable pie. As the police read him his rights, forensics were brought in. A young woman took a look at the body and then at Warren, her face full of pity. The handcuffs were cold on his skinny battered wrists. As he was escorted from the room, he turned to the Home Ec tutor, Mrs Windsor. "It will need forty five minutes, on gas mark six. Thanks," he said with a smile. THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013) Currently reading: Omens by Kelley Armstrong
Interview With... AmBear Shellea
To all who are reading this,
This is the penultimate interview of this month and today we meet Hot Ink Press author AmBear Shellea, who is going to introduce us to a world many only dream of.
Let's meet the woman herself.
---
Name: AmBear Shellea
Age: Not telling!
Location: Unspecified.
Hi AmBear, thanks for joining me! So what are three interesting facts that you'd like to share with the readers?1. I love classic muscle cars! I own a 1973 Javelin AMX, that I am restoring with my fathers. It's our Dad-and-Daughter project!
2. I am a cat person! I already have my 'Old Cat Lady' starter kit. My three fur-babies are Sassy Pants, Little Man and Colombus. Some call them spoiled, I call them loved.
3. If I could invite anyone to my dinner table, here would be my guest list: All the members of AC/DC, country legend George Strait, Carroll Shelby (he designed the Ford - most know of the Ford Shelby series) and Jesus! Wouldn't that be an eventful night?!
What made you want to be a writer?
I love the flight into fantasy. In the realm of dreams and fantasy anything can happen, and anything is possible. Mix that with my over-active, creative imagination and the fact that I can barely draw stick figures and the choice was obvious - write! This pretty much sums it up:
"Creativity is my addiction and writing is my drug of choice."
What motivates you to write?
Different things... The characters are screaming and threatening me for one, but also the fact that when I write, I totally zone everything else out. When in the zone, there is no stress, no doubts and no need for anything but the words on the paper. It's just me and my creation. I lose myself to it and time does not exist. My mind and body seem to fuse into one thing - my writing. I know it sounds weird, but it's really the only way to describe it.
Do you have a particular writing process?
Sort of. Headphones in, music loud, laptop on, and away I go!
As for a process on how the story is put together - all my stories start out as scenes with the characters, which grow into pages and chapters. At this point, I know about where each chapter will fit, but it usually isn't until I am editing that it comes together and forms a readable story.
How do you manage the deadly problem that is writers block?
Music! Loud, aggressive rock music. Music always makes me feel better, I swear it's food for my soul. An aggressive rock beat gets my heart pumping and blood flowing. I have noticed on the writing front, it helps clear my head. However, if it is plot bunnies that are blocking the progress on a current WIP (work-in-progress), I usually jot down the basics of the story and that helps. I haven't taken too much time from my current work and I have gotten the basic premise for another story, or ideas for my series.
What is a piece of writing advice that you will always remember?
Never give up and always write! Whether for fun, money or the love of getting your thoughts on paper, always write.
What is the most influential book you have ever read, and why do you think so?
Faith of the Fallen by Terry Goodkind. It is part of his Sword of Truth series. This is far into his series too, so it would be a long interview if I went through all of it BUT basically, Richard is put into a dire situation that is only getting worse. He has a few choices. Accept it and deal with it, or accept it and wallow. His choice: Accept it only as a temporary set back and work to change it. It will be a hard road, and possibly a long road, but it will be worth it. I took from this book:
No matter how hard things are, you can't roll over and give up. The world still goes on. Bills still need paying, your children will still need food, life will continue to go on, so since you have things that have to be done, you may as well work you ass off to make it better, so that at one point your life can be easier, maybe less stressful. Life is not easy and neither is living it sometimes, but giving up only compounds your problems.
As Richard would say in this series, "Think of the solution and not the problem." It is a statement I took to heart. No matter what you do, your problems will be there and they will never change until you actively work to change them!
Have you ever derived inspiration from your home or from anywhere you have visited?
Not really. If I have, I didn't think of it that way. I have gotten inspiration for characters from people I know. A certain trait maybe that that person, and then build upon that until the character is created.
Your most recent publication is Rock N Roll Promises. Have you had any publications prior to this?
Yes! Chaos Unleashed and Revelation are books one and two of The Pedalstem Lillie series. It is a fantasy romance and they are both available on Amazon.
What is Rock N Roll Promises about? It certainly sounds interesting!
A woman named Anna Skott. In her youth, in the 70's, when as we all have heard is the Peace, Love and Party era, she is no exception to the rule but finds that the one time she gives into a one night stand, her life will never be the same.
Her party hero is not who she thinks he is and by dawn, although he is still there, her previous existence is not.
Rock N Roll Promises is her journey through her new life; the rules and choices. Some of her choices leave her almost dead and after yet another one night stand, this time to protect her secret, she awakens to find, she is smack dab in the middle of a war.
And when all is said and done, she has broken the rules. Now she waits. Even though her life lies in the hands of two people, her fate may be the same, she prepares for both.
What drove you to write paraphantasy, and what exactly is it?
I am very fond of paranormal and fantasy, and this series has both, thus the name: Paraphantasy. The tagline for this series is this:
The Rock N Roll Paraphantasy series, where the Paranormal and Fantasy collide spawning a rock n roll fuelled world of love, sex, romance and wicked magic!
It is clear from your books that music plays an important part in your life. Do you have a set playlist for when you're writing, or is it something completely different?
Yes, I have a list of songs that I listen to while I write, as well as a playlist for each book. Here is the Youtube playlist for Rock N Roll Promises. These are songs listed on the book:
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLK6yIpxfLqJ-7fUqLnqQdT6K0ZzuoH_as@feature=mh_lolz
What does the future hold for you as a writer?
More books, more characters, and more fun! Oh and, more conventions and fan parties!
Thank you for such a fantastic interview, AmBear!
Be sure to check out Rock N Roll Promises on Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com.
You can also find AmBear here:
Twitter: @AmBearShellea
http://www.facebook.com/AmBearShellea?ref=hl
www.ambearshellea.blogspot.com
www.rocknrollparaphantasy.blogspot.com
www.pedalstemlillieseries.blogspot.com
---
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
Currently reading:
This is the penultimate interview of this month and today we meet Hot Ink Press author AmBear Shellea, who is going to introduce us to a world many only dream of.
Let's meet the woman herself.
---
.jpg)
Name: AmBear Shellea
Age: Not telling!
Location: Unspecified.
Hi AmBear, thanks for joining me! So what are three interesting facts that you'd like to share with the readers?1. I love classic muscle cars! I own a 1973 Javelin AMX, that I am restoring with my fathers. It's our Dad-and-Daughter project!
2. I am a cat person! I already have my 'Old Cat Lady' starter kit. My three fur-babies are Sassy Pants, Little Man and Colombus. Some call them spoiled, I call them loved.
3. If I could invite anyone to my dinner table, here would be my guest list: All the members of AC/DC, country legend George Strait, Carroll Shelby (he designed the Ford - most know of the Ford Shelby series) and Jesus! Wouldn't that be an eventful night?!
What made you want to be a writer?
I love the flight into fantasy. In the realm of dreams and fantasy anything can happen, and anything is possible. Mix that with my over-active, creative imagination and the fact that I can barely draw stick figures and the choice was obvious - write! This pretty much sums it up:
"Creativity is my addiction and writing is my drug of choice."
What motivates you to write?
Different things... The characters are screaming and threatening me for one, but also the fact that when I write, I totally zone everything else out. When in the zone, there is no stress, no doubts and no need for anything but the words on the paper. It's just me and my creation. I lose myself to it and time does not exist. My mind and body seem to fuse into one thing - my writing. I know it sounds weird, but it's really the only way to describe it.
Do you have a particular writing process?
Sort of. Headphones in, music loud, laptop on, and away I go!
As for a process on how the story is put together - all my stories start out as scenes with the characters, which grow into pages and chapters. At this point, I know about where each chapter will fit, but it usually isn't until I am editing that it comes together and forms a readable story.
How do you manage the deadly problem that is writers block?
Music! Loud, aggressive rock music. Music always makes me feel better, I swear it's food for my soul. An aggressive rock beat gets my heart pumping and blood flowing. I have noticed on the writing front, it helps clear my head. However, if it is plot bunnies that are blocking the progress on a current WIP (work-in-progress), I usually jot down the basics of the story and that helps. I haven't taken too much time from my current work and I have gotten the basic premise for another story, or ideas for my series.
What is a piece of writing advice that you will always remember?
Never give up and always write! Whether for fun, money or the love of getting your thoughts on paper, always write.
What is the most influential book you have ever read, and why do you think so?
Faith of the Fallen by Terry Goodkind. It is part of his Sword of Truth series. This is far into his series too, so it would be a long interview if I went through all of it BUT basically, Richard is put into a dire situation that is only getting worse. He has a few choices. Accept it and deal with it, or accept it and wallow. His choice: Accept it only as a temporary set back and work to change it. It will be a hard road, and possibly a long road, but it will be worth it. I took from this book:
No matter how hard things are, you can't roll over and give up. The world still goes on. Bills still need paying, your children will still need food, life will continue to go on, so since you have things that have to be done, you may as well work you ass off to make it better, so that at one point your life can be easier, maybe less stressful. Life is not easy and neither is living it sometimes, but giving up only compounds your problems.
As Richard would say in this series, "Think of the solution and not the problem." It is a statement I took to heart. No matter what you do, your problems will be there and they will never change until you actively work to change them!
Have you ever derived inspiration from your home or from anywhere you have visited?
Not really. If I have, I didn't think of it that way. I have gotten inspiration for characters from people I know. A certain trait maybe that that person, and then build upon that until the character is created.
Your most recent publication is Rock N Roll Promises. Have you had any publications prior to this?
Yes! Chaos Unleashed and Revelation are books one and two of The Pedalstem Lillie series. It is a fantasy romance and they are both available on Amazon.
What is Rock N Roll Promises about? It certainly sounds interesting!
A woman named Anna Skott. In her youth, in the 70's, when as we all have heard is the Peace, Love and Party era, she is no exception to the rule but finds that the one time she gives into a one night stand, her life will never be the same.Her party hero is not who she thinks he is and by dawn, although he is still there, her previous existence is not.
Rock N Roll Promises is her journey through her new life; the rules and choices. Some of her choices leave her almost dead and after yet another one night stand, this time to protect her secret, she awakens to find, she is smack dab in the middle of a war.
And when all is said and done, she has broken the rules. Now she waits. Even though her life lies in the hands of two people, her fate may be the same, she prepares for both.
What drove you to write paraphantasy, and what exactly is it?
I am very fond of paranormal and fantasy, and this series has both, thus the name: Paraphantasy. The tagline for this series is this:
The Rock N Roll Paraphantasy series, where the Paranormal and Fantasy collide spawning a rock n roll fuelled world of love, sex, romance and wicked magic!
It is clear from your books that music plays an important part in your life. Do you have a set playlist for when you're writing, or is it something completely different?
Yes, I have a list of songs that I listen to while I write, as well as a playlist for each book. Here is the Youtube playlist for Rock N Roll Promises. These are songs listed on the book:
http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLK6yIpxfLqJ-7fUqLnqQdT6K0ZzuoH_as@feature=mh_lolz
What does the future hold for you as a writer?
More books, more characters, and more fun! Oh and, more conventions and fan parties!
Thank you for such a fantastic interview, AmBear!
Be sure to check out Rock N Roll Promises on Amazon.co.uk and Amazon.com.
You can also find AmBear here:
Twitter: @AmBearShellea
http://www.facebook.com/AmBearShellea?ref=hl
www.ambearshellea.blogspot.com
www.rocknrollparaphantasy.blogspot.com
www.pedalstemlillieseries.blogspot.com
---
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
Currently reading:
September 25, 2013
Writing Challenge - Day 10
To all who are reading this,
Day ten on the ELEMENTAL challenge. We are two thirds of the way through the challenge. I am still loving this - I have written dystopia and science-fiction, genres I would not normally write. This is the great thing about this challenge - it makes you think outside of the box.
Now, I've been watching a lot of American Horror Story: Murder House, so you can blame that for my head creating this.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the tenth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 10. - GHOST
"And our final Haunted House of Horrors on the tour is the old Manning place. Built in 1909 for Mr John Manning and his wife Kathryn, it was a beauty in its day. The windows sparkled and the gardens bloomed with life. As you can see, the house still holds some grandeur, even if it does attract a more alternative scene." Nicola appraised the bus load of tourists. Sure enough, at the back of the bus there was a small group of male and female Goths. She smiled in acknowledgement of them and continued. "The house has been vacant for a number of years. The last owners fled from the house in the dead of night, screaming for help. And that was in 1984. But, why you ask?" She took a dramatic pause and raised her eyebrows. There was a reason she was employee of the month. "In 1929, twenty years after its build, John's financial business fell into ruins with the stock market crash - the beginning of the Great Depression. He tried to sell his home care products and was in danger of bankruptcy. Kathryn later learnt that whilst she struggled to raise the two children, Henry and Jean, that John was conducting an illicit affair, and giving the mistress money to pay for her secrecy. "A month into the stock market crash and the fear of loosing her husband, Kathryn was so distracted that she sadly lost her children. They had been playing in the bath and had drowned themselves. Distraught at the loss of the only good things in her life, Kathryn killed herself by jumping from the balcony of the second floor." She indicated the house. Wind blew through the railings of the balcony, creating a spooky atmosphere that the tourists ate up. "At the loss of his wife and children, John brought his mistress into the home, where she bore him a son. As the child grew into infancy, he often told his mother stories of the little ones who tried to play with him, and when he refused, pinched and poked him. She brushed off his tales until Thomas toppled from the stairs and broke his neck. The mistress found herself descending into paranoia, sensing that someone was watching her. She tried to run from the eyes that followed her, the hands that pulled at her skin and hair and clothes. She was flat against the balcony railings, screaming for help, when she lost her balance, and tipped over. She clung to the bars, but could feel hands peeling them away, and the wind brushed past her as she landed into the dirt and grass below. She died." The bus load of tourists gasped. "They say that Kathryn, Henry and Jean haunt their home, that their ghosts walk the floors. They will not settle because their spirits are trapped, with the disgrace and failure that John Manning brought upon them." THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013) Currently reading: The Hidden Child by Camilla Lackberg
Day ten on the ELEMENTAL challenge. We are two thirds of the way through the challenge. I am still loving this - I have written dystopia and science-fiction, genres I would not normally write. This is the great thing about this challenge - it makes you think outside of the box.
Now, I've been watching a lot of American Horror Story: Murder House, so you can blame that for my head creating this.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the tenth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 10. - GHOST
"And our final Haunted House of Horrors on the tour is the old Manning place. Built in 1909 for Mr John Manning and his wife Kathryn, it was a beauty in its day. The windows sparkled and the gardens bloomed with life. As you can see, the house still holds some grandeur, even if it does attract a more alternative scene." Nicola appraised the bus load of tourists. Sure enough, at the back of the bus there was a small group of male and female Goths. She smiled in acknowledgement of them and continued. "The house has been vacant for a number of years. The last owners fled from the house in the dead of night, screaming for help. And that was in 1984. But, why you ask?" She took a dramatic pause and raised her eyebrows. There was a reason she was employee of the month. "In 1929, twenty years after its build, John's financial business fell into ruins with the stock market crash - the beginning of the Great Depression. He tried to sell his home care products and was in danger of bankruptcy. Kathryn later learnt that whilst she struggled to raise the two children, Henry and Jean, that John was conducting an illicit affair, and giving the mistress money to pay for her secrecy. "A month into the stock market crash and the fear of loosing her husband, Kathryn was so distracted that she sadly lost her children. They had been playing in the bath and had drowned themselves. Distraught at the loss of the only good things in her life, Kathryn killed herself by jumping from the balcony of the second floor." She indicated the house. Wind blew through the railings of the balcony, creating a spooky atmosphere that the tourists ate up. "At the loss of his wife and children, John brought his mistress into the home, where she bore him a son. As the child grew into infancy, he often told his mother stories of the little ones who tried to play with him, and when he refused, pinched and poked him. She brushed off his tales until Thomas toppled from the stairs and broke his neck. The mistress found herself descending into paranoia, sensing that someone was watching her. She tried to run from the eyes that followed her, the hands that pulled at her skin and hair and clothes. She was flat against the balcony railings, screaming for help, when she lost her balance, and tipped over. She clung to the bars, but could feel hands peeling them away, and the wind brushed past her as she landed into the dirt and grass below. She died." The bus load of tourists gasped. "They say that Kathryn, Henry and Jean haunt their home, that their ghosts walk the floors. They will not settle because their spirits are trapped, with the disgrace and failure that John Manning brought upon them." THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013) Currently reading: The Hidden Child by Camilla Lackberg
September 24, 2013
Writing Challenge - Day 9
To all who are reading this,
Day nine on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This was written in bed, whilst watching television. This is not my normal type of fiction, so you have been warned.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the ninth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 9. - BUBBLES
Zara slammed her fists against the glass wall for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. As per usual, nobody came to her aid. She could see them though - sniggering amongst themselves, whilst going about their business. She blamed her father entirely. Making her travel around the country for years at a time, investigating extra-terrestrial activity. Finally they had settled in what could only be described as a small hick-town. She had finally found normality - a part time job in a restaurant, good grades at school, friends who found her interesting (especially Carina), and most surprisingly, Kyle - a real boyfriend. And then what did Daddy Dearest go and do? Tell her he was bound for an inter planetary investigatory mission, and she would be coming too! At first she had complained and protested - loudly. She then told her co-workers, classmates, Carina and Kyle. They told her not to make a big deal out of it - what other chance would she have to travel in space? The training and later the mission, had gone swimmingly well until the ships computer crashed. It forced the crew to don their suits and helmets, and make an unscheduled stop on an undiscovered planet. That's when everything went fifty shades of wrong. They were set upon by aliens. Not fluorescent green blobs but more like long, thin grey sticks, clothed in deep purple robes. They turned their elongated heads and whispered amongst themselves. In their strange language, they welcomed them to Planet Veldin and asked of their business. Zara's father opened is mouth, explained the situation and was shot dead by The Grey's, as Zara had nicknamed them. They valiantly fought back against the crew and subdued many. Those that weren't killed, Zara amongst them, were placed in what could only be descried as glass bubbles. Food was distributed three times a day, as well as water. Zara was the only human female, and The Grey's were delighted. They performed medical examinations on her and finally, let her alone. A male visited her once a month. He would kiss her, and touch her most intimate of areas, before leaving her alone, cold and crying, in her own little bubble.
THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)
Currently reading: The Hidden Child by Camilla Lack berg
Day nine on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This was written in bed, whilst watching television. This is not my normal type of fiction, so you have been warned.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the ninth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 9. - BUBBLES
Zara slammed her fists against the glass wall for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. As per usual, nobody came to her aid. She could see them though - sniggering amongst themselves, whilst going about their business. She blamed her father entirely. Making her travel around the country for years at a time, investigating extra-terrestrial activity. Finally they had settled in what could only be described as a small hick-town. She had finally found normality - a part time job in a restaurant, good grades at school, friends who found her interesting (especially Carina), and most surprisingly, Kyle - a real boyfriend. And then what did Daddy Dearest go and do? Tell her he was bound for an inter planetary investigatory mission, and she would be coming too! At first she had complained and protested - loudly. She then told her co-workers, classmates, Carina and Kyle. They told her not to make a big deal out of it - what other chance would she have to travel in space? The training and later the mission, had gone swimmingly well until the ships computer crashed. It forced the crew to don their suits and helmets, and make an unscheduled stop on an undiscovered planet. That's when everything went fifty shades of wrong. They were set upon by aliens. Not fluorescent green blobs but more like long, thin grey sticks, clothed in deep purple robes. They turned their elongated heads and whispered amongst themselves. In their strange language, they welcomed them to Planet Veldin and asked of their business. Zara's father opened is mouth, explained the situation and was shot dead by The Grey's, as Zara had nicknamed them. They valiantly fought back against the crew and subdued many. Those that weren't killed, Zara amongst them, were placed in what could only be descried as glass bubbles. Food was distributed three times a day, as well as water. Zara was the only human female, and The Grey's were delighted. They performed medical examinations on her and finally, let her alone. A male visited her once a month. He would kiss her, and touch her most intimate of areas, before leaving her alone, cold and crying, in her own little bubble.
THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)
Currently reading: The Hidden Child by Camilla Lack berg
September 23, 2013
Writing Challenge - Day 8
To all who are reading this,
Day eight on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This piece was inspired by a good friend who gave me the idea. I dedicate it to you!
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the eighth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 8. - DARKNESS
The suburban town of Sheffthorpe was usually calm. During this time of year, students were flying the nest, heading to various universities the length and breadth of the United Kingdom. Tourism was slowing until November brought in shoppers preparing for Christmas. Everything was peaceful until the evening of the twenty-third of September. The year was 2013. It had been a crisp afternoon, and night was drawing in. One by one the street lamps popped. Glass casing shattered, falling on pedestrians. Women and children cried out in alarm and for some, pain. Men hurried their families along, urging them to safety. On the roads, traffic lights turned themselves off. Cars swerved out of each others way, whilst there were several collisions. Cyclists turned onto pavements, fearing for their lives. Appliances in households stopped, leaving mothers frustrated, fathers only seen by the glow of their cigarettes, children frightened. Teenage girls complained loudly about everything and the boys moaned about losing their latest game save data files. In a field towards the outskirts of town, five teenagers crowded around a camp fire. The two girls, Alicia and Bethany, were huddled in thick jeans, jackets and boots. The two boys, Julian and Ross, studied everyone's backpacks and organised their supplies. Michael, meanwhile, paced the field, leaves crunching underfoot. He had sensed that the electro-magnetic pulse would hit - how, he didn't know and he didn't want to. Not at this minute anyway. All that mattered was that the end was coming, and he and his friends would survive whatever was coming for them. A plague. Zombies. The apocalypse. When morning hit, they could survey the damage that the darkness had created. And then, they could go about living.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)
Currently reading: The Hidden Child by Camilla Läckberg
Day eight on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This piece was inspired by a good friend who gave me the idea. I dedicate it to you!
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the eighth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 8. - DARKNESS
The suburban town of Sheffthorpe was usually calm. During this time of year, students were flying the nest, heading to various universities the length and breadth of the United Kingdom. Tourism was slowing until November brought in shoppers preparing for Christmas. Everything was peaceful until the evening of the twenty-third of September. The year was 2013. It had been a crisp afternoon, and night was drawing in. One by one the street lamps popped. Glass casing shattered, falling on pedestrians. Women and children cried out in alarm and for some, pain. Men hurried their families along, urging them to safety. On the roads, traffic lights turned themselves off. Cars swerved out of each others way, whilst there were several collisions. Cyclists turned onto pavements, fearing for their lives. Appliances in households stopped, leaving mothers frustrated, fathers only seen by the glow of their cigarettes, children frightened. Teenage girls complained loudly about everything and the boys moaned about losing their latest game save data files. In a field towards the outskirts of town, five teenagers crowded around a camp fire. The two girls, Alicia and Bethany, were huddled in thick jeans, jackets and boots. The two boys, Julian and Ross, studied everyone's backpacks and organised their supplies. Michael, meanwhile, paced the field, leaves crunching underfoot. He had sensed that the electro-magnetic pulse would hit - how, he didn't know and he didn't want to. Not at this minute anyway. All that mattered was that the end was coming, and he and his friends would survive whatever was coming for them. A plague. Zombies. The apocalypse. When morning hit, they could survey the damage that the darkness had created. And then, they could go about living.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)
Currently reading: The Hidden Child by Camilla Läckberg
September 22, 2013
Writing Challenge - Day 7
To all who are reading this,
Day seven on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This proved to be the most cathartic flash fiction piece so far, and I was in a bad place when I wrote it.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the seventh story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 7. - POISON
When I was diagnosed with depression in my teens, I didn't tell any of my friends. Every time I took my medication, I would tell them it was pain killers and laugh it off. Smiling was painful for me. Every laugh was forced out of me. I would make excuses for not going out with them on an evening, and buried myself in my home and coursework. I found solace in horror films and fantasy novels. When I was around my friends, I thought that any minute, the mask would slip and they would see me for who I really was. A sad, lonely girl. I always felt like the odd one out in our group - not too smart, not too stupid. Not fat, nor thin. I felt like the spare wotsit at the wedding when I was around them. Every single time. And I was useless with relationships too. I looked at other couples sprawled in the fields, cuddling and kissing their lunch breaks away. I saw love and light in their eyes as they stared deep into each others souls, whilst all I could do was dream of the day when someone would hold me, brush the hair from my eyes and tell me everything was going to be okay. Nobody saw the scars that adorned the tops of my legs, not even when changing for P.E. I'd turn, act embarrassed and things would go back to normal. Nobody saw the cryptic entries in my private journal or in my school planner. They thought my horrific art coursework was dark and fantastical. How could they see that they were expressions of my inner-most feelings? Nobody seemed to care if I looked remotely sad - they were more interested in who was going out with who, if anyone was pregnant, and other gossip. Everyday I spent at school was torture. I often thought about ending it, just letting the knife or the razor blade slip whilst I had a bath. All the poison would slip out and then I'd be free. Gemma looked up from the crumpled paper in her hands. The fear she had first experienced when she joined the mental health group had now disappeared. People supported each other in their problems, because everyone had them, in one way or another. Whether it was depression or an eating disorder, they could talk about their problems openly and not be worried about the consequences. Here she was going to survive. She wasn't going to let the poison win. Not this time.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)Currently reading: Underworld by Meg Cabot
Day seven on the ELEMENTAL challenge. This proved to be the most cathartic flash fiction piece so far, and I was in a bad place when I wrote it.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the seventh story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 7. - POISON
When I was diagnosed with depression in my teens, I didn't tell any of my friends. Every time I took my medication, I would tell them it was pain killers and laugh it off. Smiling was painful for me. Every laugh was forced out of me. I would make excuses for not going out with them on an evening, and buried myself in my home and coursework. I found solace in horror films and fantasy novels. When I was around my friends, I thought that any minute, the mask would slip and they would see me for who I really was. A sad, lonely girl. I always felt like the odd one out in our group - not too smart, not too stupid. Not fat, nor thin. I felt like the spare wotsit at the wedding when I was around them. Every single time. And I was useless with relationships too. I looked at other couples sprawled in the fields, cuddling and kissing their lunch breaks away. I saw love and light in their eyes as they stared deep into each others souls, whilst all I could do was dream of the day when someone would hold me, brush the hair from my eyes and tell me everything was going to be okay. Nobody saw the scars that adorned the tops of my legs, not even when changing for P.E. I'd turn, act embarrassed and things would go back to normal. Nobody saw the cryptic entries in my private journal or in my school planner. They thought my horrific art coursework was dark and fantastical. How could they see that they were expressions of my inner-most feelings? Nobody seemed to care if I looked remotely sad - they were more interested in who was going out with who, if anyone was pregnant, and other gossip. Everyday I spent at school was torture. I often thought about ending it, just letting the knife or the razor blade slip whilst I had a bath. All the poison would slip out and then I'd be free. Gemma looked up from the crumpled paper in her hands. The fear she had first experienced when she joined the mental health group had now disappeared. People supported each other in their problems, because everyone had them, in one way or another. Whether it was depression or an eating disorder, they could talk about their problems openly and not be worried about the consequences. Here she was going to survive. She wasn't going to let the poison win. Not this time.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)Currently reading: Underworld by Meg Cabot
September 21, 2013
Writing Challenge - Day 6
To all who are reading this,
Day six on the ELEMENTAL challenge. A little background information about this piece is that it began life as a comedic piece that I started writing on my phone in the Co-Op, but somehow it changed and became... Well, what you have before your eyes.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the sixth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 6. - LIGHT
Holly had heard the noise for the third night in a row, when she decided to investigate. Armed with her dads heavy duty fishing torch, and her brother Phillip's baseball bat, she thought she looked rather intimidating. The hallway of the new house was cold and for once, she wished she wore more to bed. The air wound around her bare legs, creeping up towards the oversized men's shirts she wore for comfort. Resisting the urge to shiver, she crept past Phillip's room, where she could hear him playing his latest video game. All was quiet in the bathroom. Finally, she paused at the top of the stairs, and swung the torch so the beam of light surrounded her. At the far end of the hall, the soft noise of a television filtered through the crack between floor and door of her parents bedroom. If everybody was in their beds, then what was making those noises? Down the stairs Holly went, the torch flickering across the framed photographs of the family and the avant-garde art prints her mother collected. The noises were steadily getting louder. It was like the clinking of a chain, the rustle of old fashioned materials. Stood in the doorway to the kitchen, the noises were the loudest. Holly took a deep breath and moved forwards slightly, careful not to make the floorboards creak. "What are you doing in my house, you ghosty bastard?" Holly sprung forth into the kitchen, bat raised, torch light shining on... "Mum?" Andrea Jackson stood at the breakfast bar, knife raised. Holly was puzzled as she watched her mother butter slices of bread, and layer meat, cheese and salad on the top. "Mum?" She tried again but there was no answer. As she shone the torchlight onto her mother's features, she could see that her eyes were closed. Andrea didn't respond to the bright invasion, and Holly finally propped the bat by the door, feeling foolish. Aiming the torchlight onto the floor, she took a step into the kitchen. Her mother didn't notice - she just continued to slice cucumber. The noises. They were her. She was a sleep walker, and Holly had almost woken her. That could have damaged her! Silently, Holly watched in awe as her mother finished making sandwiches. She put them in food wraps and stored them in the fridge before beginning to clean away the mess she had made. When Andrea was done, she passed right by Holly, so close that their arms brushed. Thinking on her feet, Holly shone the torchlight on the stairs, and followed her mother back up, full of fear that she might fall at any minute. At the top of the stairs, Holly stopped. She watched as her mother stepped through the bedroom door, that her father held open for her. He caught Holly's eye. "Thanks love." He smiled.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)Currently reading: Underworld by Meg Cabot
Day six on the ELEMENTAL challenge. A little background information about this piece is that it began life as a comedic piece that I started writing on my phone in the Co-Op, but somehow it changed and became... Well, what you have before your eyes.
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the sixth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 6. - LIGHT
Holly had heard the noise for the third night in a row, when she decided to investigate. Armed with her dads heavy duty fishing torch, and her brother Phillip's baseball bat, she thought she looked rather intimidating. The hallway of the new house was cold and for once, she wished she wore more to bed. The air wound around her bare legs, creeping up towards the oversized men's shirts she wore for comfort. Resisting the urge to shiver, she crept past Phillip's room, where she could hear him playing his latest video game. All was quiet in the bathroom. Finally, she paused at the top of the stairs, and swung the torch so the beam of light surrounded her. At the far end of the hall, the soft noise of a television filtered through the crack between floor and door of her parents bedroom. If everybody was in their beds, then what was making those noises? Down the stairs Holly went, the torch flickering across the framed photographs of the family and the avant-garde art prints her mother collected. The noises were steadily getting louder. It was like the clinking of a chain, the rustle of old fashioned materials. Stood in the doorway to the kitchen, the noises were the loudest. Holly took a deep breath and moved forwards slightly, careful not to make the floorboards creak. "What are you doing in my house, you ghosty bastard?" Holly sprung forth into the kitchen, bat raised, torch light shining on... "Mum?" Andrea Jackson stood at the breakfast bar, knife raised. Holly was puzzled as she watched her mother butter slices of bread, and layer meat, cheese and salad on the top. "Mum?" She tried again but there was no answer. As she shone the torchlight onto her mother's features, she could see that her eyes were closed. Andrea didn't respond to the bright invasion, and Holly finally propped the bat by the door, feeling foolish. Aiming the torchlight onto the floor, she took a step into the kitchen. Her mother didn't notice - she just continued to slice cucumber. The noises. They were her. She was a sleep walker, and Holly had almost woken her. That could have damaged her! Silently, Holly watched in awe as her mother finished making sandwiches. She put them in food wraps and stored them in the fridge before beginning to clean away the mess she had made. When Andrea was done, she passed right by Holly, so close that their arms brushed. Thinking on her feet, Holly shone the torchlight on the stairs, and followed her mother back up, full of fear that she might fall at any minute. At the top of the stairs, Holly stopped. She watched as her mother stepped through the bedroom door, that her father held open for her. He caught Holly's eye. "Thanks love." He smiled.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)Currently reading: Underworld by Meg Cabot
September 20, 2013
Writing Challenge - Day 5
To all who are reading this,
Day five on the ELEMENTAL challenge. We are a third of the way through the challenge. I am loving it - it gives me a chance to flex the creative muscles as I'm still struggling on a chapter of my WIP (work-in-progress) and I am also awaiting news on my second novella, Best Consumed Within.
Enough of other writing projects - the challenge is now!
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the fifth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 5. - ELECTRICITY
The word sounds funny on my tongue. E-lec-tri-city. It is something I have only ever heard the older generation speak of. People like my adoptive parents, Veronica and Leonard. They can remember a time when they could read a book by large lamps, watch something they called a television, walk streets without the fear of bandit attack. Leonard even said that there were things called motor cars. It is hard to believe that a city like this could be completely powered. Once upon a time, it would have been bursting with light and life. Now, we have been relegated to darkness, fending for ourselves, taking risks for the sakes of our families and friends. I have climbed into old factories and other buildings with friends when we have been scavenging. We have seen the machinery that once rumbled and shook the ground that we stood on. We have taken apart contraptions that could have once saved lives in medic centres. Veronica later told me they were called hospitals, and that I had been born in one. She then told me how I had been named for a country that my parents had visited and fallen in love with, a country that had been the epicentre of light and power during the early years of their lives - Paris. My friends and I have seen a world unlike anything we have ever known. When storms hit our city, we cower in our apartment buildings and houses. We put blankets over our heads, hide under tables and chairs, and press pillows and cushions against our ears. Years ago, things were different. Veronica remembers a time when she and my birth mother stood by a beach, watching the sky light up across the sea. Leonard remembers when all the technology failed when forks of lightning hit transmitters (whatever they are), and how he and my father went around unplugging everything in sight. Those storms cost me my parents. E-lec-tri-city. No matter how many times I say it, it sounds foreign.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)Currently reading: Underworld by Meg Cabot
Day five on the ELEMENTAL challenge. We are a third of the way through the challenge. I am loving it - it gives me a chance to flex the creative muscles as I'm still struggling on a chapter of my WIP (work-in-progress) and I am also awaiting news on my second novella, Best Consumed Within.
Enough of other writing projects - the challenge is now!
And don't forget, if you have any questions about my works or anything of the sort, please don't hesitate to get in touch! You can always post a comment below!
So... here's the fifth story.
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
ELEMENTAL WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 5. - ELECTRICITY
The word sounds funny on my tongue. E-lec-tri-city. It is something I have only ever heard the older generation speak of. People like my adoptive parents, Veronica and Leonard. They can remember a time when they could read a book by large lamps, watch something they called a television, walk streets without the fear of bandit attack. Leonard even said that there were things called motor cars. It is hard to believe that a city like this could be completely powered. Once upon a time, it would have been bursting with light and life. Now, we have been relegated to darkness, fending for ourselves, taking risks for the sakes of our families and friends. I have climbed into old factories and other buildings with friends when we have been scavenging. We have seen the machinery that once rumbled and shook the ground that we stood on. We have taken apart contraptions that could have once saved lives in medic centres. Veronica later told me they were called hospitals, and that I had been born in one. She then told me how I had been named for a country that my parents had visited and fallen in love with, a country that had been the epicentre of light and power during the early years of their lives - Paris. My friends and I have seen a world unlike anything we have ever known. When storms hit our city, we cower in our apartment buildings and houses. We put blankets over our heads, hide under tables and chairs, and press pillows and cushions against our ears. Years ago, things were different. Veronica remembers a time when she and my birth mother stood by a beach, watching the sky light up across the sea. Leonard remembers when all the technology failed when forks of lightning hit transmitters (whatever they are), and how he and my father went around unplugging everything in sight. Those storms cost me my parents. E-lec-tri-city. No matter how many times I say it, it sounds foreign.THE END© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2013)Currently reading: Underworld by Meg Cabot
