Collection of Short Stories and Poetry

https://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/vittorio-zamboni-467151.jpg It taunts me as I look at it, where I left it last, in the spare room. It is saying play me, but how can I play? My lost limb is no longer there, taken by the crash, smash of the driver who claims he didn't see me coming. 'Wow you were amazing'. 'You are going to go far with your talent'. 'Next upcoming Cello player Jessica Kimyani'. These were the past phrases, the reviews I used to receive in my concerts. I was approached to play at the Royal Opera House. But the accident took that away like a thief stealing precious momento's from the house. The pink ribbon, lush and full of life, raps itself around the Cello like a snake, whilst I broken, tattered and worn stand in it's glow. 'I'm sorry, but we have to cut the arm off' said the Physician. 'But my arm, it is necessary?' 'Yes I'm sorry Miss Kimyani, but the arm has e

http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/dan-bo-an-217449.jpg Looking out of the window, she departs from the station, with some hestitaition about the journey ahead, moving away from home and the childhood memories. Looking out of the window, she remembers how mum cried, dad hugged her but looked smug about the university acceptance letter to study medicine, but she is hesitant over the journey ahead from home and the childhood memories. Looking out of the window, she had agreed for Janet her younger sister to have her old bedroom, but feels feel gloom over giving up her personal things from the past, but this was bypassed by Janet who was elated, but now she feels hesitate over the journey from home and the childhood memories. Looking out of the window, is the future of new beginnings. What lays ahead are new friends, studying, a degree, and her parents that will still visit her, as the train moves very fast from her home, from the past to th

http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/pete-bellis-430278.jpg The dog turns its head looking down the path as she carries it, its cute nose and dark eyes innocently. She is holding it close as it provides her intimacy Down the long road towards the valleys. With her pink back pack and her high heeled boots, her tiny knotted bow, and white dress Does she regret leaving him to get away? She has no idea where she is going, no path to follow as she jangles the dog collar She does not regret leaving him for the path ahead offers her a better future.

http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/victor-duenas-teixeira-423539.jpg Is it her soul which evaporates from her, into a smoke, puff huff and it disappears? Is it some magic trick performance that vanishes into a smoke, puff huff and it relishes into nothing. Is it a wish from a some dandelions from her hands into a smoke, puff huff and they disappear? Is it something burning some twigs holding into smoke, puff and huff that fade away like a sphere of smoke? Whatever it is in her hands, she holds the power and control to erase, puff and huff and watch that steam go into the wind and to perish and become distinct and embrace the new beginnings of her life.

http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/tim-mossholder-414902.jpg You are Worthy of Love But she didn't believe it You are Worthy of Love But she didn't hear it You are Worth of Love But she couldn't take the compliment. You are Worthy of Love But she denied it You are Worthy of Love But she rejected it and him so Love went away from her. But she couldn't see it. Worthy of Love left her, because she denied its Love Worthy of Love went elsewhere Worthy of Love is only Worthy If you believe in its Love and Worth.

Crouching with her legs huddled, she held the lamp griped and looked at the mirror, her aunt had gone to bed and she unable to sleep had sneaked into the spare bedroom on the top floor. 'That place is forbidden dear, there is nothing of interest anyway...now off to bed Julie' her aunt had said to her when she had enquired about the room upstairs. Julie could hear her snorts whilst crept past her bedroom to walk up the spiral staircase to the top bedroom. It was dark and dusty, but stranger was the absence of any furniture, only a tall, long mirror that lay there on the wall. Julie felt disappointed but at closer inspection of the mirror thought that she saw something in the mirror so crouched down. Her lamp was glistening but there was no reflection of her at first which didn't make sense. She moved the lamp closer to the mirror and then on investigation she could see there was an older woman staring at her holding a lamp. The woman had grey

The sea is calm, fresh and breezy, But I feel uneasy. I want to jump and end it all. The water is blue, crisp and flowing But my heart is towing. I want to jump and end it all. I stand here at the edge of the promenade and prayed, for him to come back to me, not to be dead. we were just newlywed But he was taken away. I want to jump and end it all, But I know he would say carry on, I can hear his voice , so now its my choice to live another day.

'Damn.... Where are we?' 'I thought you were looking at your map?' 'I was...But I can't work out where we are'. 'I was supposed to be home hours ago Jake, my parents will be worried' 'Michelle, calm down...now let me see'..... Jake and Michelle had decided to take the long way around after their date at the usual diner 'Kate's Burger Joint' where Jake had the king size burger with cheese and Michelle had the same thing as always nuggets with chips. They had only been dating for about six months, when Jake recommended he take Michelle through the woods to drop her home. 'Look it says Private Property up there. We are going to get in trouble Jake'. 'Don't be such a baby Michelle, lets go and have a look further down and see what there is'. 'But Jake, the sign, what if we get told off?' 'Michelle' he said as he grabbed her hand, they lumbered their way through the tall grass an

This piece has been inspired by: http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts/ Through the mist, cloud I walk and try to find a way, But I am lost within the the fog of grey. I have my backpack, coat and jumper, Through the mist, cloud I walk and find it such a wonder. I don't know where to go, whether to turn back or go further, Through the mist, cloud I walk merely an observer. But I am lost with the fog of grey, All that I hope is that I can finally find my way.

This piece has been inspired by this photo and : http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts/ The dirt on my hands is thick, black, mucky and rancid. I have buried her with my bare hands scrapping the dirt to cover the lifeless body. I look at my hands the only witness to my crime as they stare at me but I don't feel remorse, its the third or forth time that I have done this. The lifeless body is beneath me, rotting away as I stand on it and she was beautiful and I like my other prey charmed her with my tails of fame not that I have had any. But the young women always seem to believe me as they say I am handsome, I am called ' pretty boy' as they can't seem to resist my black hair and tall stride that I have. I have that natural look which makes me seem vulnerable and I lure them like a cheese on a mouse trap to their end. These hands will be washed, with no tale or mark neither with the girl who is now beneath me, all the newspapers say is &#

This piece is inspired by: http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts/ His glasses were all that now remained, his body probably washed away by the tide as he had walked into it like a child to the bosom of it's mother. The glasses glistened in the sunshine, as it sparkled like a beacon as they lay on the crisp, moist, sand as he had left them there with the pile of clothes down by the beach, naked as has he entered. He could no longer go on with life, it had no meaning to him, so he decided this was the best way, by the sea which has always been Peter's favourite place as a child growing up. Peter had been a misfit, someone who didn't seem to fit in, the geek as they called him, the one they pointed at and laughed and who never had a girlfriend. He was only nineteen, the whole world was it his feet, but now all that remained were his glasses and the footprints left by him, as he had walked down to the beach. Peter was now gone.

This Piece has been inspired by: http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts/ and this photograph:  Its time for me to go, I knew that this time would come but I don't want to leave her. I came here about five years ago, my mission was to report like many others who were sent before me on humans and how they live and their values. I originally game from planet Jirfrozon which is a beautiful planet far away beyond the reaches of humans. But what I didn't expect was to fall in love with Elaine. Jirfrozon's are explorers visiting planets and have come down on planet Earth several times through the decades. I found humans reports on our visits accurate via newspaper articles however was surprised to learn that they were thought of as hoaxes. I came here to report and observe only for five years and I was excited to find out about Earth when I came over. However I met Elaine who was working at the same place as I work, as we try to blend in and to b

this piece has been inspired by http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts/ Dining Table Empty table, empty chairs, candles unlit and bare, promise of what could be basket of pears, but just isn't there. Empty table, empty chairs, candles unlit and vacant promise of what could be a sign of fragrant, but just isn't there. Empty table, empty chairs, table cloth and a beautiful room promise of what could be a bloom of people hustle and bustle, but in reality it isn't there.

This story is inspired by http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts/ - picture as above: As I gaze out of the window, I can see the hustle of shoppers going into retail giants such as Primark, Marks and Spencer's or Debenham's. Its a mad rush for the best bargain, as I sit in this quiet haven of a coffee shop waiting for Lisa to arrive. I have no idea what she looks like, I tried one of those dating sights Plenty of Fish and we got chatting, she didn't seem to mind that I had tattoo's on my arm and the number 9 3/4.  We seemed to hit it off, as she liked museums and didn't jump to the conclusion that my taste was automatically be heavy rock as my ex- girlfriend seems to constantly think. Its 2 o'clock in the afternoon, in my favourite coffee bar Mad hatter's tea bar, I just love the quirky name and it's simplicity and I felt that a first meeting in this place would'n't be pushing it too much. I didn't want to make

This piece is inspired by writing prompts: http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts picture of a girl: As I lay here looking at the ceiling, I can't seem to move, blink or have the desire to get up, he has just told him that he loves someone else and has been having an affair. I didn't realise there were over 10,562 dots in the ceiling tiles, I have counted them over and over again as I lie here in the bed with my shawl wrapped around me keeping me protected. I just stare at the ceiling and the words affair flash at me like headlights of a car. I thought he loved me, James. We had difficulties in our marriage, who doesn't I think as I lie here with my world blown apart by those words. He had been working late, going away to conference but he had always been ambitious and pushing himself so I didn't think it was that...an affair. My legs feel so heavy like a sack of sand and my eyes are not blinking, I am in shock I can't move those wor

The rays of the sun were appearing in the distant sky, like a flower opening up it’s petals, that floated through the doorway, as I opened the latch. I held the glass of water in my hand, while the beam reflected off, creating a rainbow through the doorway, but it stopped up to the bed where she lay. The sounds of her breathing grew heavier and heavier as it echoed into the street. I wiped a tear from my face.       She laying there with her eyes closed and her body was as stiff as ice. ‘Bibi-Ji pani’ (mother) I said. I tried to make her sip some drops of water and stroked her hair. She looked so tired, and frail as I held her hand. I clutched it tight like a child watching her dense exhale.     The door rattled and I saw two ladies standing at the doorway. They were both wearing Indian suits and had their dupattas covering their heads. The clothes they   wore were dirty and tattered from the labour of work. ‘ Sat sri akal beti’ ( God is the Ulti

http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts/ - This story has been inspired by Writing Prompts.      My hand is placed on the window as I sit and watch the train 'chug' 'chug' into the countryside and away from the hustle and bustle of the train station. I am leaving all that I know and being called into the duty for my country and to go into the unknown of war.      My mother couldn't stop crying, my pregnant wife I leave and all my brothers, sister and my uncle as I sit here alone on the train.     I dropped the letter as soon as I received it, I felt conflict in my heart and looked at her and she just knew that I had to go and leave her and my unborn child. I am afraid and only twenty years old but I have to go and abandon all that have and go into battle.       It is peaceful here, the countryside, trees and grass is green but I will be going into chaos, bullets, gun shots and the pain of war and battle. My heart is beating away as I go

This story has been inspired by: http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts/ He was gone, finally out of my life. I sat down within my own home that I had fought for the last three years to get from the court.  The sentences what are you doing? You are forty and going to be single? I was criticised for making the decision to divorce Peter. But I knew in my heart it was the right thing to do. He had slept with somebody else. I just couldn't live with him as he had broken my heart and was it right for me just to forget it and take him back?  'I am really sorry'. 'Who was she?' 'It isn't anyone you know' 'When?' 'It was at the conference when I was away for five days'. I couldn't believe what he was saying, another woman after our ten years of marriage. It didn't make any sense. I felt that we had been happy and I had always worked hard within our relationship. But now everything changed fro

This piece was written as part of the Writing Prompts Competition, which you can find details can be found here:  http://www.creativewritingink.co.uk/resources/writing-prompts/ I  look at the text it says 'I'm sorry I am not ready for a committed relationship'. I can't believe it, no phone call, no discussion one to one, Beth has just ended our sixth month relationship with a text. Is it really like this in today's world?     I had only gone back to dating after my failed marriage, well 'failed' I say as it was what my mother called it 'failed'. Kirsty left me after two years of our marriage, we just drifted apart and we had both got married really young. But for my mother it was always going to fail and she loved to rub the salt into the wound. I really was doubtful about going into the world of dating, it was all websites, profiles and contacting over messages no one to one to talk anymore. I am an old fashioned guy I just met Kirsty a

Time is supposed to heal isn’t it? That’s what people keep telling me. I look out of the window at the hustle and bustle of people, buses, cars, and motorcycles. Life is constantly on the go, moving, transforming, evolving, life is outside of the window. But for me life has stopped.  It’s been two years since Eric died, my life is still empty with his clothes out of the wardrobe, his knick knacks all gone to charity and my finger now without a ring. I look outside at life’s beauty unable to touch it to exist in it, I am in a different place full of pain, grief and emptiness.   I keep telling myself that somehow the past will go away, the memories will fade away, I keep getting told I look so well and that I look happy. But people cannot see the agony I have and the loss I hold inside me it doesn’t go away. It’s inside me the pain, prickling me like thorns from a rose bush and I like the traffic outside simply move on and on forward but inside me is the agony. I just breathe f

The letters in his hand were crisp, clean, and pure white and had the age of youth while Sebastian's hands were wrinkled, old and worn out. He smelt the perfume of the letters which were like flowers in the room showing down onto him. He rocked slowly as he held them and whispered 'Lillian' while Beatrice didn't budge and had gone to sleep purring away in his lap.  As the light glistened in the fireplace the colours were reflecting onto the walls of the living room like colours of the rainbow as he thought of Lillian and the past. It was at university where he had met her first, he was himself lost in the corridors, with his shirt half tucked into his trousers, tie askew and hair rough and looking at the board trying to find his class. He heard her voice, 'excuse me' and turned towards her. It was her golden hair that struck him. It shone in the corridor like a gem and it was long. She looked as though she were a mermaid emerging from the sea. He could feel