The highs and lows of being a new minnow author in the vast Amazon Ocean! Strange Magic!
Receiving a terrific round of applause from my fellow authors at Brentwood Writer's Circle and chants of "Brilliant" from Mulberry Writers for my impassioned live reading of Snowdrops from Basque! (Snowdrops, beautifully performed by Ruth is streaming live on SoundCloud and my website: www.isittodayhjfurl.com)
Writing changed my life. I learned to write online in 2016. Since then, I’ve read stories at a BBQ, in an organic café, a gazebo. I am proud to be a member of Brentwood Writer’s Circle. I love writing character. To me, character is all.
Is It Today? is an intriguing blend of fantasies, bitter-sweet romances, and science fiction - like the alarming Young at Heart:
‘Tell me Maria, what are the bruises on your arms? How do you keep Lana so young?’
‘I think you should leave now, Mr Lucas,’ it replies.
Maria trembles and shakes as if about to erupt.
‘You feed Lana your blood, don’t you? To keep her young and beautiful.’
‘You don’t understand, Mr Lucas. You humans never understand! Mrs Lucas has to stay young. She models her own swimsuits on a catwalk. I think you should leave now.’
I look on astonished as Maria’s head spins, faster, and faster.
‘You should leave now! Por favor! Leave now. Arriverderci! Leave! Prego! Leave! Prego! Now! Leave! Now! Now! Now!
I push it aside and throw open the door of my grubby red Fiat Cinquecento.
Blood red! The colour of the blood Lana drinks from Maria’s elbow every morning to keep herself young. I see the shadows in Maria’s black eyes, realizing the awful truth, the artificial is dying to keep her mistress alive. She implores me:
‘Prego! Leave! Now! Prego! Prego! Leave me! Now...! Before I kill you for your blood!’
I went all teary when I read this moving tale to Brentwood Writers’ Circle and Mulberry Writers Group.
He is feeding her soup from a silver spoon, and she loves him. Feeding her like that! The soup is thick, and warm. She swallows, opening her mouth, licking her lips, with the tip of her tongue, craning her head, then she drops her jaw, so that he can feed her again. She dribbles some, feels the tiniest trickles run down her chin. He dabs her clean with a mouchoir. She blushes. Her cheeks bloom roses. He stops feeding her.
Limb deficient Marie paints snowdrops - with her mouth.