Hooked on a trek across a barren land, as writer's block strikes a bolt from a swollen stormy dark grey cloud; the swirling mundane dreary humdrum departs and from the mist a maze with no ruddy exit! There'll be a parrot screaming; tormenting. A clock that counts in hours and days and a stand-alone door that wishes to be answered, please.
Yet somehow coaxed there is a horizon; upon a distant hillside sits, smiling as the welcome rays of sunshine spray down drenching a carpet of rippling green grass flourishing beneath the bright blue skies of the perfect sentence.
Closing her eyes, Clare turned to the comfort of her imagination; seeking to escape the cruel sphere on which she lived; nostalgically reminiscing; allowing her mind to wander, to experience a carefree romantic innocent princess-fantasy, for a momentary indulgence; an idyllic life, with the world at her feet and a smile on her face; it was so real: the beauty and happiness of pleasant dreams... Continue Reading
As the days grew shorter, the luscious tree lined streets of leafy suburbia slowly transformed into a glorious and rich display of gold, amber and ruby; with each new day the eminence of Summer gradually slipped into distant memories, and that was none more evident than on this misty late-September morning... Continue Reading
Although it was not uncommon to see two, and, occasionally, three girls amongst the usual male dominated grids of her kart races, in this particular case, Clare found herself the only female racer... Continue Reading
Sometimes I wonder if I have walked under too many ladders. Or broken a mirror. When every day could be Friday and every date the thirteenth... Continue Reading
As the last leaf dropped from the tree, Zoë thought back to the crazy events of the summer. Those bright cheerful warm mornings a far cry from today... Continue Reading
"Anyway, so you’re a teacher," said Steven, consciously running the tip of his finger around his pint glass as it stood on the table; himself repeating what she had previously said before he got side-tracked... Continue Reading
These stories and extracts are © copyright Martin Balmer and may not be reproduced in anyway or any form including but not limited to blog posting, printed material, web site pages or video broadcast without the expressed written permission from Martin Balmer.
Copyright © 2004 - 2012 Martin Balmer. info@sportingtorque.com
Terms and Conditions | Privacy Policy | Mobile Version
|