Jolly

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Christmas is only two weeks away and I’m so excited! I just don’t think I can wait any more! There’s so much to do still; like wrapping presents, sorting and buying the food and getting the time table finally done. After that though, it’ll be all sorted and I can truly celebrate. I feel so full of joy that I can’t contain it. I just want to, I don’t know, dance about and sing loudly to Christmas songs, tell everyone how I feel, but that would be a bit crazy….Why should that matter? It’s CHRISTMAS!

(Inspired from; https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/jolly/ with thanks).

The Last Day

2016, concert, december 31

Kerry looked up from her book at the muted TV screen. A reporter, wrapped up warm clothes was talking to people in a large crowd. Despite the drizzle, everyone seemed happy to be there. The camera turned away and focused on the London Eye. The big white wheel stood out against the black sky and the city lights. Then the camera flashed back to the crowd.

Blowing her nose, Kerry balanced the open hardback on her knees then added the used tissue to the pile that was gathered around her. Coughing loudly, she settled back down on the sofa under her duvet. She read another page of her book, feeling totally distracted by the drama unfolding on the page.

The TV screen went dark and Kerry’s eyes glanced over at it. The big wheel was shown again and this time the camera stayed on it.

Kerry turned up the volume and put her book mark into the page she was on. A count down had started on the TV and people were shouting the numbers as a clock also flashed them up. Placing the book down, Kerry grabbed the small bottle of champagne. It was still cold from the fridge and there was a sheen of water around the the neck of the clear glass.

‘Zero!’ shouted the voices on the TV.

Big Ben began striking the midnight hour and London went into a frenzy.

Kerry cracked open the bottle, which wasn’t corked, but a screw top. The fizz give a little pop still and she poured it into her glass.

Fireworks suddenly went off, both on the TV and outside her apartment as music played and voices took up singing.

Kerry rose the glass in the air to give a little toast, then she sipped the champagne. It tasted acidic against her tongue. Taking a mouthful, she swallowed and placed the glass down. Her phone beeped with incoming texts. She picked it up and answered them all just as fast as they came in.

Swapping her phone out for the champagne, she took two mouthfuls then looked into the glass. The taste hadn’t improved and she’d only drunk half now. Her phone rang loudly. Kerry scrambled for it, knocking her book to the floor.

‘Hello?’ she answered it.

‘Hi. Feeling any better?’ her boyfriend’s voice came through.

‘A little,’ she replied as she sank back on to the cushions.

‘Happy New Year!’ he added.

Kerry giggled, ‘same to you.’

‘As soon as I get home we’ll celebrate properly.’

‘No. We don’t have to…’ Kerry said.

‘We’ll go out,’ he cut through her words, ‘a nice meal, a movie, drinks after. However you want to do it.’

‘No,’ Kerry said again, ‘I want to stay in. Let’s just sit on the sofa with a movie and popcorn.’

‘Well…if that’s what you want…’ he responded in a dropped tone.

‘Yes. I just want you. Us,’ Kerry explained.

‘Okay, I’ll try and get home as fast as I can then,’ her boyfriend added.

‘Good. I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you too! I should go though…I can’t see the noticeboard from here.’

‘All right. Text me soon,’ Kerry spoke.

‘Sure. Night!’

‘Night.’

Kerry hung up and looked at her phone screen. On the TV, the fireworks were coming to an end and the reporter had appeared again. From outside came the whizzing of a rocket and sound of a firework exploding into a frizzling noise.

Putting the phone on the coffee table, Kerry tossed the rest of her drink back then put the empty glass beside her phone. Picking up her book, she lay down again and opened the pages. A sneeze hit her before she could start reading and she had to dig out a new tissue. Growling, she lent back and wondered how the start to the New Year could get any worse.

Christmas Day

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All around the world today people are gathering together.

They are swapping presents, eating feasts and celebrating.

It’s a time for happiness and to see the magic of tradition.

Happy 2nd birthday blog!

Happy Birthday Cake

Hi everyone!

The 6th part of The Train Station will soon be up, but before that when I logged on this afternoon to check things out, WordPress told me that today my blog is 2 years old! So, I thought that needed a quick shout out. And of course, a chance to say a big thank you to all my readers, followers and people who take the time to like and/or comment on my stories.

I think I’ve written about the beginnings of this blog before, but basically it began as a way to help me break my writer’s block and depression that had been affecting me since I left Uni. I thought having to do something everyday would help give me a focused purpose and I ended up choosing to write stories because it was something I wanted to get back into. Also, I have been told I have a talent for it and I do have a love for writing stories.

There have a been a few times that I’ve thought about stopping or reducing the postings on this blog. I’m not earning any money for it and sometimes not many people read my stories, which makes me wonder why I carry on. I guess it’s because it’s become habit now. I’ve been doing it for so long that missing a day actually scares me and I think when that happens the chain will be broken which will led to me closing this blog.

The Stories Files has always been for me though. I set out to create a space I had to write my stories too. Originally that started on another website which has now been taken down, but I was a bit restricted to what and how much I could post on there. So, I set up my own blog and started writing. At the back of my mind, no matter what happens, I keep hold of the knowledge that I’m doing this for me and it’s all about my progress on the techniques of writing short stories and novellas.

Writing has always been a big big part of my life. It’s something that I can’t even dream of not being able to do because it’s me. It’s what I do and sometimes what I think I was born to do. Everyone who knows me will tell you this, it’s what I’m well known for, though I’ve had very little officially published. My dream always has been! One day I want to go into a bookshop and see my novel on the best selling shelf. I want more people to know my name and to love my stories, but it’s a long road.

I know that some of the stories on this blog are rubbish, but there’s also gems. Of course, they need some polishing and I’ve got a few already I want to make better. I still want to get those anthologies sorted too. I know I said I’d have the first one done last month, but I suffer from a range of different illness and depression still, which have slowed down my plans. Also, I’m dyslexic, which doesn’t help. I’ve battled through with it though and it doesn’t stop me. In fact, writing is helping to improve this, but I’m always going to have issues.

I should stop before this becomes any longer, below I’ve put together a list of things I thought people might be interested in checking out. I do hope that my followers keep on growing and my stories do get shared, but to be honest, even after two years, I’m still doing this for me. So, thanks to everyone again and happy reading.  Hayley.

Stories written: 738

First ever story: https://thestoryfiles.wordpress.com/2014/08/15/too-late/

Most popular story: https://thestoryfiles.wordpress.com/2014/12/10/bridge/

My favorite story: https://thestoryfiles.wordpress.com/2014/12/02/ruby-and-wolf-part-1/

 

My first novella (Not finished) : https://thestoryfiles.wordpress.com/2015/05/09/trust-part-1/

My second novella (not finished) : https://thestoryfiles.wordpress.com/2014/11/19/church-part-1/

My third novella (finished) : https://thestoryfiles.wordpress.com/2016/03/14/a-foot-in-the-past-part-1/

 

Second blog: http://hailscrazyblog.blogspot.com/

Third blog: https://negativitybreakout.wordpress.com/blog/

Easter

Easter Eggs, Basket, Color, Colored, Egg, Easter

After the late morning church service, Lucy hustled her five children home for lunch. Arriving, she was surprised to hear her husband, Charles, awake and cooking. The oldest three children- Laura, Ben and Rebecca, rushed off to the kitchen having hardly taken off their coats and shoes.

Lucy listened to their excited voices and questions as she struggled with the twins in the hallway. Finally getting the two, three year old boys, Charlie and Joshua out of their coats and boots, she let them loose and started taking off her own things.

‘It’s the monsters!’ she heard her husband calling out.

The twins burst into giggles and squeals with added shouts of ‘daddy, no no tickles!’

Lucy smiled, despite feeling exhausted, went to join her family in the kitchen.

‘How does everyone want their eggs?’ Charles was asking.

The children shouted up with suggestions, included fried, boiled and chocolate.

Laughing, Lucy called over them all to go and set the table. With some moaning the children left, Laura and Rebecca dragging the twins away. Lucy hugged and kissed her husband.

‘What are you doing up?’ she asked.

He shrugged, ‘I couldn’t sleep anymore, so I thought I’d help with starting dinner and making breakfast.’

Lucy looked at the pots on the stove and the collection of vegetables on the work top.

‘Thanks.’

They kissed again then whispering Lucy said ‘I set up the egg hunt. Though it’s meant to rain soon.’

‘I don’t think they’ll care,’ Charles muttered back.

Lucy smiled and leaned into him. The kettle boiled and letting each other go, they started making breakfast and finishing the preparation for an Easter day feast.

Chinese Dragon

Paris, France, Chinese New Year, People, Celebration

Mini sat on her father’s shoulders holding her breath. Below her, the heads of the crowd pressed around them and she saw more children on adult shoulders who were pointing with chubby fingers down the street. She looked, but couldn’t see anything other than the red paper lanterns that were strung up between the streetlamps.

She sniffed and rubbed her nose, feeling the tail end of her cold getting her down again. Mini put her hands on top of father’s head and pressed her cheek on them. The voices and movements of those around her slipped into the background and her eyes began to close.

The pounding of drums jumped her awake and her eyes shot down the street. A path was being made and coming through were smiling people wearing red and yellow costumes.  Above their heads, flags and banners waved in the breeze. Mini wiggled, leaning over to get a better look. Father’s voice told her to be still, she’d see soon enough.

The people walked past, waving to the crowd then the drummers came, rolling out the marching beat. She caught a glance of something big and golden bobbing in the sky. Her hands slipped back to around father’s chin and Mini lend over his head, desperate to see. The shape grew, becoming clearer and clearer till she could see the mighty head of the dragon. He was gold and fiery orange, with large white triangle teeth, a red mane and crest. She gasped and watched him swooping over peoples’ heads. She wanted to cover her eyes, but couldn’t move.

The crowd was going crazy and shouting so much at once. Most of the words were drowned out by the drummers. Hands clutching red squares reached for the sky and the dragon as he came closer, weaving from one side to the other. His tongue was flopping out and his black eyes seemed to searching for something to eat. Mini tightened her grip on father and got told off, but she couldn’t help it.

The dragon loomed over and she ducked, burying her head in father’s hair. He bounced her a little, telling her comforting things, but she couldn’t listen. She was sure the dragon had seen her and was preparing to eat her. She felt a strong wind sweep over her head and cried out. Mini risked a peek and saw that the huge dragon head had past her. Easing up, she watched the dragon’s body flying by, the gold and orange colours moving as if they had a life of their own.

She sighed and watched the spiky tail disappearing into the crowd. The dragon hadn’t been hungry for her after all. Mini patted her father’s head and told him, as he looked up at her, that the dragon was scary. He laughed and told her that’s how they were meant to be, but dragons had no interested in eating little girls. They enjoyed money and treasure far more.

Postcard #7

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