Non-Fiction Update -Updated


I’m off sick. I’ll get back to writing when I can.

I’ve had a virus and also an eye infection. I’m on the mend now but stilling having trouble with my vision.

I’ll be slowly starting to catch up on the days I’ve missed now.


New Year’s Take Two #FFfTP

New Years

I had been sick with the flu on New Year’s Eve, so I didn’t celebrate. In fact, it wasn’t until Friday 11th Jan that I was feeling well again. Despite not feeling in the mood for it, my housemates threw a party – New Year’s take two, they said.

Laughing, I joined in with the singing and dancing. I drink not too much and didn’t snack either. Someone put a recording of London celebrating New Year on the TV. We couldn’t down midnight and welcomed 2019 in.

Then we crowed in the small garden and let off some fireworks. The colours were so bright against the dark, foggy sky. The whizzing and bangs so loud as no one else was celebrating.

Chilled by the coming frost, we warmed inside with more dancing and hot corn beef hash. People started leaving then, a few helping to tidy before doing so. I was in bed before the last guests left, tried out by everything.

Even though my new year hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts, I wanted to make the second take really did.


(Inspired by; with thanks).



Vobba #atozchallenge


Vobba; trying to work from home whilst taking care of a sick child. 

I was too busy to take the day off, so I fixed it to work from home whilst looking after Kia. She had been ill all weekend, some bug going around the school, it would seem. I got her settled on the sofa; apple juice, snuggle blanket, teddy bear and the TV on the children’s channel. Then I went into the dinning room and set myself up. I had lots of reports to look over and some to write.

‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Kia called.

I looked up from my loading laptop, wondering what could have happened in less then five minutes.

‘What is it?’ I answered back.

‘I dropped Bobo!’

I heard her struggling to reach the bear. Getting up, I walked into the living room and saw my five year old reaching over the back of the sofa. Tutting, I went around, picked up the bear and handed it to her. Kia hugged her teddy and settled down again.

Leaving her again, I sat back down to work. I opened the first report and read through a few pages, making notes along the sides and bottom. I turned a page and heard Kia calling me again.

‘Mummy! More apple juice!’

I rolled my eyes and got up again.

‘You drank that fast,’ I said, coming into the living room.

Kia waved her cup in the air. I took it from her and went to refill it. I heard her coughing and sneezing.

‘That was a big sneeze!’ I told her coming back in.

Kia nodded and took her cup from me. I tugged the blanket around her and left again.

A few minutes later, I heard shuffling footsteps and felt warm little arms trying to hug me. I pulled Kia on to my lap and kissed her hot head. I worked little that for awhile, reading and making notes whilst she dozed against me. Then my legs went numb and I started to get pins and needles.

Gently, I carried Kia back to the sofa and left her napping there. No sooner had I sat down again though, her little voice called out to me. I pressed my lips together and ignored her. I had too much work to do!

‘Mummy!’ Kia called.

‘Working, working,’ I mutter under my breath.


Sighing, I got up and went to her, ‘what is it? I have to work,’ I said.

‘I’m hungry!’ Kia moaned.

She hadn’t wanted anything before, perhaps it was a sign she was getting better? I agreed some toast and made it for her. Back to work again, I started writing my report then from behind my laptop I saw something move. I paused, thinking it was only a trick of the light, but there was now a small long necked green dinosaur seemingly peering around my laptop at me.

Convincing myself it had been there all along, I got back to typing. The next time I looked up though, the dinosaur had moved closer and behind it was a pale red T-Rex.

‘Kia!’ I snapped.

I heard giggling from under the table and bent down. She was hiding under there, a few other colourful dinosaurs scattered around her knees.

‘You are meant to be ill,’ I said.

‘I am!’ Kia cried back, ‘I want you.’

‘What for?’


She reached out her arms then crawled out from the table. We hugged.

‘Now, take your dinos back into the living room and play with them there, okay? Mummy has a big report to write.’

Nodding, Kia collected the plastic models and went out of the room. I heard her clattering around and after a few minutes there was just the background noise of the TV. I tapped away on my laptop, getting some more work done finally. Though, I shouldn’t have started thinking this was how it was going to continue.

‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Kia called.

‘What?’ I replied back as I carried on typing madly.

‘Come watch this!’

‘I’m busy Kia!’

‘But I want you!’ she wailed.

‘I’ll be in a few minutes,’ I replied.

‘No!’ Kia cried and she stumbled into the dinning room.

I turned to her and she burst into tears.

‘What’s wrong?’

She waved her arms around and I had no choice but to get up and comfort her. Carrying Kia back to the sofa, I waited till she had cried herself to sleep then crept off again. No sooner had I sat back down again, Kia started crying again.

I looked at my report and just knew this wasn’t going to work. Closing my laptop, I went into the living room and spent the rest of the day looking after Kia.



It was the first time Shell had been outside since early autumn. Strangely, everything looked the same; there were leaves on the ground, the trees were bare and clear water was still running in the man made stream. The air felt cold and wet, yet fragranced  with freshness.

Shell breathed in, held it then on release heard the crackling of a cough in her lungs. She tried to hide it, but the cough burst from her like popped ball. She clutched her chest, feeling the tightness growing. She bent over, unable to do anything other then let the coughing fit hack through her body.

Flopping down on the wet grass, her simple dress collecting about her, Shell rubbed her chest and tried hard to catch her breath. She glanced back at the remains of a castle. The light grey stone walls and roofs rose above the brown branches of the tree tops. She had been trying to get there but defeat was creeping in.

Pushing herself up, she went towards the stream and sat down by it. Even though Shell knew the water would be freezing, she scooped up handfuls and drink deeply. There was a few minutes of peace and then another cough tickled up her throat. Giving in to it, she let this cough out.

It was worse then the one before and tears started in her eyes. Sniffing, she wiped her face and made herself look dignified again. Struggling to her feet, Shell walked back though the woods. Glad no one had seen her.

Slipping inside the cottage’s back door, she went up the two flights of stairs and into her attic bedroom. Shell sank down on to the bed and looked around. Someone – her old handmaid probably- had cleaned the room she had just spent the last four months almost dying in.

The windows were open, letting in the early spring air and there was a vase of just budding flowers on the window sill. The bedding had been changed, the floors scrubbed and the fire place clean. There was nothing to say the place had almost been a death chamber.

Shell turned to the window. She couldn’t see the castle from here, but she could feel it. Her home was always close in her mind. She sighed and didn’t let the memories build up. It was time to bury them, just like she had her parents and grandparents.

There was a knock at the door, but before Shell could call out the door opened. Her handmaid walked in carrying armfuls of clothes. the woman was short, busty and getting in late age.

‘Oh! You have returned. I’m sorry. I’ve just brought you some new dresses. Would you like to see them, your highness?’ the maid spoke.

Shell shook her head and let the woman put the clothes away in a roughly made wardrobe.

‘Did you make it to the castle?’

‘No,’ Shell replied.

‘Another day then. Shall I bring you some tea and cake?’ the maid asked.

Shall paused and patted her chest, feeling another cough building, she squeezed out a ‘yes, please.’ Then coughed loudly. she tried to make it seem like she was only clearing her throat, but they both knew better.

With a little bob, the maid left and Shell spent a few moments catching her breath. After, she got up and went to the window. Letting her thoughts roam, she thought about all the times she had dreamed of being Queen and now she really was, she didn’t want it.


(Inspired from;


Red Leaf Tress Near the Road

She wanted to go outside and walk through the falling leaves. She wanted to feel the wind full on her face and smell all of the earthy, autumn scents. Seeing everything from her window or the screen wasn’t the same. She needed to physically be there.

But she couldn’t.

This bed, this room, was her life now. She had no body, she was just a mind trapped within a rotting shell. And how much longer would she have to wait to be free? No one could tell her that.

She looked out of the window and tried hard to smell the nature. But someone had lit incense sticks again that was the only thing she could smell. She was sick of that and the scents of candles and flowers. She understand why they did it now; not to comfort her, but to comfort themselves from the hospital smells and her decaying flesh.

She longed for it all to go away and for her just to be outside walking barefoot through the woods. She shut her eyes and thought about the wind in the trees and the singing of birds. She could touch the tree trunks and walk in streams and mud, just like she use to do.

She sighed.

It felt like she would never go. Perhaps, that was her curse? To just carry on like this forever and each generation of her family having to care for her and go through the same emotions. Maybe, they’d get bored and just sign her care totally over to the hospital. Then either they would store her away in a freezer or some scientist, crazed with frame would find a cure and she could go outside again…

She wanted to know why it had happened to her. She must have done something wrong and being punished. But that didn’t make any sense. She had been good to the world, unlike so many people. She had chosen a quiet, animal and world friendly lifestyle. She had meditated, eaten right, helped everyone when they needed it and had never been selfish or needy herself. Surly that was how humans should be? Why would someone as good as her be punished with this crippling sickness?

She was too tried of trying the figure that out. It was something she tried to keep at bay, but with only her thoughts and imagination still in use, it was hard for her to keep away from that line of thought. Sometimes she would reflect on what the doctors, nurses and her family were saying, but most of the time it was the same things over and over again. It was easy for her to mute their words now, though she desperately craved them.

She looked at the window again and knew if she could cry she would do. When would she be back in mother’s natures arms and free of this hell?

Brave For A Day

Board, Slate, Blackboard, Font, Courageous, Brave


‘Are you ready, Nora?’ the doctor’s voice in my headset asks.

I nod even though I’m so nervous I could pass out. I bit my lip, taste blood and lick it away. I hear the machine whirling into life around me and flashing white lights across my visor. I hold my breath till I can’t anymore and my lungs have started burning. A panicked scream almost forces its’ way out of my mouth, but I swallow it back down and shake my head.

‘Are you in pain, Nora? Do you need us to stop?’ the doctor’s calming though rushed voice echoes in my ears.

‘No, no,’ I gasp.

‘It’s just the claustrophobia,’ another doctor whispers, ‘carry on.’

I squeeze my eyes shut and took a few deep breaths. I picture my happy place and find myself in a green field full of multi-coloured flowers. I breathe the heavily scented air and touch which I image is warm grass.

A buzzing shatters the illusion and my body jerks awake. I snatch a deep breath and don’t draw anything in. I try again and again as my eyes spiral around the ribbed roof of the machine above me. Voices are shouting in the headset but I can’t hear them over the bleeping in my ears.

I claw at the roof and scream. Dimly, I’m aware of my legs banging around and my heels hitting the foam surface. Bright lights blind me and I feel hands holding me down. Someone takes off the headset and visor. Needles prickle my arm then I’m falling.

‘Nora? Can you hear me? Everything’s alright.’

I moan and turn my head towards the voice.

‘Did it work? Is she…is she going to walk again?’ The familiar voice of my mother comes to me.

I open my eyes, blinking away tears and look upwards. The room is a whitewash of cleanness and standing over me is my doctor and mother. Both are wearing white coats, masks and hats. I part my lips and try to call out for her, but only another low moan escapes me. I hold out my limb hand and feel my mother’s warm skin against mine.


‘Yes?’ I croak.

‘How do you feel?’

I press my head back and think. I wiggle my toes. ‘I can feel my feet and I’m not in any pain,’ I respond.

Mother lets out a joyous cry and throws her arms around me. I pull a face and turn away from her kisses.

‘How about sitting up? Do you want to try that?’


With help, I easy myself up and swing my legs down from the machine’s bed. I pause and look down. Did my legs just move by themselves?

‘Oh! Nora, you did!’

‘The chip seems to functioning normally,’ the voice of the second doctor coming from the doorway causes us all to look up, ‘the program is just fine and so are all her vitals.’

‘Do you want to try and stand up?’ my mother presses.

I look down at the floor which feels so far away.

‘Take your time, Nora. There’s no need to rush. Remember we don’t know if this is actually going to work or not,’ my doctor cuts in.

Nodding, I grip the edge of the table and slide myself off. My bare feet hit the cold floor and I feel it going right through me. I wiggle my toes then take my first ever step. I wobble, but hold. I take another, then another. My heavy breathing and my mother’s cries mingle in my ears along with my slapping feet.

‘Do you feel anything?’ the doctors ask together.

‘The floor!’ I shout out.

‘Pain? Problems? We need to know, Nora.’

‘There’s no pain,’ I answer happily.

‘We must take you to observations now. Wheelchair please,’ the second doctor calls into his ear piece.

I go back to the machine which looks like the belly of a whale and lean against. My doctor comes to my side and whispers, ‘it’s just for twenty-fours. We couldn’t give you any more time. I’m sorry.’

A deep shaky breath leaves me and my fingers dig into soft plastic.

‘It’s okay. Thank you. For the first time in my life I’m walking and free from pain.’

He nods and pats my arm.

‘And I’m helping others too,’ I utter.

‘Yes, of course. Now, the experiment has been a complete success, we can give this gift to others. You’ve been so brave, Nora. You should be proud of yourself.’

‘Here’s the chair, let me help you get in,’ the other doctor cuts in.

I turn, a bubble in my throat, ‘afterwards,’ cracks in my throat, I swallow and try again, ‘afterwards, can I please go outside?’

‘Sure, Nora, whatever you want.’

I nodded and lower myself into the chair.


Depression, Mental Health, Sadness, Mental, Health

She lay on the floor, blinking up at the ceiling and rubbing the pills across her palm.

Another Sick day

Ash settled under her sofa fort, fighting a wave of the shivers. Tightening the duvet around herself, she rested against the fluffy cushions and look out over the darkened living room. Her dog, Harry, snuggled into her feet and lower legs. Heat drifting from his body and his paw tapping against her. Ash wonder what he dreamed of as dawn broke outside, bring life to a crisp January day.


It was on mornings like today’s that she just wanted to go back to bed. It was the best thing to do whilst her body fought off the flu. However, her brain had other ideas and she was drawn to sit at her computer and write a terrible short story.