Barry Walsh

On the phone so I’ll keep this short…

I’m not the same person I was ten years ago (or even five years ago) and the things that impacted me then are not the things that impact me now.
I see it as growth ☺️

Great! I’d love to read some blogs from ten years ago – before all the nonsenses that started in 2016, and when there were busy Writers Forums full of blogs, shallow or profound but always fascinating…

Please post an example…

=)

Hallowed Evening

The Bakers have lived over there for nearly fifty years now. I recognise the car in the drive. They bought it just before I arrived here. Then there’s Helen Smith’s house. I know she’s still there because I saw her heading out an hour ago. She’s changed a lot over the years, but I’d recognise her anywhere. Not sure who the neigh…[Read more]

Headline (397 words excluding heading)

I’ve spent the last 17 months recovering from a particularly horrific Halloween party and I’m reluctant to accept this invitation to another one.
Still, if you have to face your fears, where better to do it than with a group of thrill seekers who think nothing of taking ‘daring’ to its limit?
Yes, I know it…[Read more]

Woohoo, Sandra! Congratulations! ☺️

And well done, Knicky. Thanks for a challenging (for me, anyway) comp 👍

Fabulous stories and especially well done, @Sandra. Thanks for a great comp @knickylaurelle

Another pieced-together piece, and only 245 words, but best I can manage.

Bourbon dreaming

A bottle of Makers Mark from my husband for Christmas and a wine-free tea (Köstritzer Schwarzbier instead) so I took a glass of bourbon to bed with me, along with John Rebus.

And I dreamt, more vividly and memorably than usual, with more logic than usual…[Read more]

Couldn’t make more than a patchwork quilt of the remnants of my dreams so was forced to resort to the daydreaming option. (Can you tell I’ve been watching Supernatural? 😊)

SACRIFICE

Awareness filters into my consciousness like oil seeps into unleavened bread, slowly and without fanfare. The darkness in my mind begins to withdraw.

I feel not…[Read more]

Jay

Jay says he loves me. He says ‘I love you, man’. He tells me he’s killed his mother, or maybe I just think that he did. He says he crushed her like Plasticine, but I can remember that it was really me who crushed my mother. She was made of red plastic and her feet were set on a little tab so she could be stood up. I crushed her with my thumb…[Read more]

In the place and time I found myself, I had done something wrong.

My punishment? A chain of large metal links, secured around my throat, pressing against my flesh, reminding me of its presence every time I swallowed or turned my head.

A man, with whom I had a connection – were we related? Was he the reason for my wrongdoing? – received the sam…[Read more]