[Mondays are the worst days. Not in a cliché way, I'm not Garfield. I love blogging and doing it continuously for a week has really shown me that it's something I want to be doing for real. However, today, being a monday, I really just didn't want to have to sit down and type one out. I've had 2 days off where I've had to think about literally nothing and I think my brain may have actually gone numb because of it's lack of use. Despite the fact I was reminded this morning that I had to post, it literally went in one ear and out the other. My mind has been so full of nothing that I can't even remember simple things like turning off a light, never mind sitting down and writing. Luckily, it's Creative Writing Monday and I have a tonne of stuff I want to share with you guys!


This is a short story I wrote about a year ago for my creative writing class. I spent waaay to much time on considering how short it is but it's one of the pieces I'm most proud of. I think that's what caused me to want to develop it and it has now become the basis of a screenplay I've been meaning to write. I'll get round to that. Maybe in retirement..]

      The crisp white snow lay untouched on the sidewalk. Not a sign of life could be seen all around. Silence lay heavy in the cool air. The empty street was still immersed in the darkness that comes before a late December dawn. Naked trees dotted along the edge of the lane creaked under the weight of the snow lying innocently on their branches that slid onto the ground during the sigh of the wind. Snow swirled down in flurries over the silent neighborhood, casting shadows here and there like fairies dancing through the air. A dark figure darted through the shadows, her feet printing tiny, tiptoed footprints into the white blanket below them.
      A small, pale woman emerged into the light of the streetlamp and paused. Her angular face was gaunt with the harsh weather. Her deep red hair lay in perfect waves past her shoulders, dotted with snowflakes, melting as quickly as they had been created. The dim bulb buzzed as it revealed her deep purple cloak, hood up covering her face. Bundled in her arms was a heap of dirty blankets, an infant lulling quietly within. She stood frozen, her lavender eyes studied the building across the street. A single tear dripped from her cheek as she looked down at the child she held. The drop tumbled and dripped onto the child’s pale skin. Its violet eyes squinted up at her with unfamiliar affection. The woman pulled it to her chest and started across the road.