Terrie

Site was ‘murdered’ because owner decided to shut it down then did so, Telling no-one and refusing to answer all communications thereafter.

I do think we that were there were lucky, insofar as it was a chatty, supportive active group, probably at the peak of its activity, which made the death of it al the more tragic,

I have belonged to one or two sites that have been invaded and effectively ruined by the invaders, after which they failed. How is a site murdered?

As for contributers…well, that’s tricky. When it comes down to it, it’s people’s leisure time. If they feel compelled to contribute then I’d sort of hope it was some sort of internal compulsion…[Read more]

Read this, Ath, and will ponder (not that I think I’ve any answers.) but a year in which to turn around is an excellent idea.
Another thought, along the lines of ‘if you pay for it you make sure you get your money’s worth; would be more convincing were this as lively and well-functioning as we’d like it to be.
But, The site I cut my writing teeth…[Read more]

Blimey, managed to write something and very pleased to be able to enter the comp. Was a bit concerned at managing to get to 250 words and wanting to post without having to DQ myself! Happily at 256 words including title. 🙂

This might be the day.

He hadn’t closed the curtains. The sunbeam found the bed at 6.37 and warmed his left foot at 6…[Read more]

Another fairy tale

Was it when, age three or maybe four and my mother, part way through their evening meal, seated at the table with husband, husband’s sister and husband’s parents, met my bad dream request for comfort with a withering ‘Why should I help you when this morning you said you didn’t love me?’. I knew then the rest of them didn’t…[Read more]

Ta ever so, Gail. My little story is about real people I knew a long time ago, and a real bar, so it was easy in a way. I liked your theme and I liked Sandra’s entry too. Pity about the numbers but that’s the way things are right now.

Thanks Gail, for your kind words and well done Ath! I had such high hopes of myself with this theme, having had several ancient, (I was 8 years old) nut-brown men in a Hertfordshire village to base a tale upon but strive as I might, (and I DID) it would not come right and each time I read it I knew that I’d missed the hoped-for essence.

The Urban McGonagall [one expletive]

Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays. I’m a poet.
Not that many folk, to look at me, would know it.
(Part because they look but never see beyond the Council-issued uniform: pea-green.

Mostly I’m invisible. Indivisible, from barrow, brush and bucket. And yes of course, when drunks stumble, trip and tumble over my…[Read more]

*warning for language and content*

Sweep Weep

Shit! That’s Gaz over there. He mustn’t see me like this. Oh my God! I don’t even know how he got into those jeans. I can see the bulge of his iPhone. He’s looking my way. Stay busy with the cart, keep my hood up, pick the big brush. He’s never going to recognise me.

Called into the Woodpecker club…[Read more]

@Seagreen

Good heavens!! What happened to April? I completely forgot I’d set a competition, was somewhat startled to discover it was May, but I do like this – rings some bells since, apart from invisible, April seems to have been a retrospective month, for more than me.

So without further ado, I’m handing the baton for May’s competition to you -…[Read more]