The summer silenced me. I found myself gently guiding the words creeping up from the cellar of my brain, back down the rickety stairway to the depths from which they had come. Dark words, damp words, words full of sadness … Continue reading
Yep, I’m still flashing, still driven by the need to concoct tiny little stories only 99 words long which usually stay hidden from here, visible only to Charli Mills‘ followers. For their eyes only. But this week, for some reason, … Continue reading
Amidst recent bouts of coughing and spluttering I have also been over at one of my favourite places – The Carrot Ranch. There Charli Mills gave me a space to bare all and let readers get to know my other … Continue reading
Words have been my playmates for decades. Ever since the Ladybird heroes of the sixties, Peter and Jane, and their huge black letters introduced me to dogs and balls and trees and toys, I have been surrounded by their magic. … Continue reading
If anyone had had a camera to take a photo of my face at the precise moment of discovery, it would have travelled around cyber-space for a century or more. Pure shock, horror, and disbelief. “Who did this? Who the … Continue reading
Originally posted on Carrot Ranch Literary Community:
Scars By Irene Waters During October, the Rodeo, which was the brain child of Charli Mills from Carrot Ranch, gave us a wonderful opportunity to put ourselves outside our comfort zones by writing…
Fire’s on. TV’s on. Feet are up on the coffee table. The poor girl in ‘Don’t tell the Bride’ is going to hate what he’s preparing for her. And even if I am loving this moment there are still two … Continue reading
Heavens to Murgatroyd, I’ve been absent from this space for over two weeks. That’s the equivalent of two years in blog-time. And no, I haven’t been swimming in the Caribbean, nor skiing in the Alps. I haven’t been sent on … Continue reading
Me, the scribbler
