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061 - Winter

Prompt list here

Down in the darkness the creaking bells and rusty hemp ropes lie in the dust awaiting the dawn and the day. She's a battered old thing lying at anchor in a forgotten creek, the scrub branches and briars thick on all sides. Her cable frays. Behind a narrow gap threads between the bushes, overhanging on both banks, back to the sea.

The sea? The estuary. Wide mud flats and grey sky and salt brown water, treacherous tides that sweep across the sandbanks. The filthy stink of primordial ooze deep enough to swallow the unwary whole.

An unsafe shore, a smuggler's shore.

Shifting sandbanks and channels that switch between one tide and the next. Shallow seas that change their character by minutes, at once millpond smooth, at once sharp and steep. Creeping fogs that pulse to some strange heartbeat, that breathe in and out like the ocean sighing. Thin as a fine haze, thick as pea soup.

The wind only ever comes from one direction - straight into your face, cold and sharp as knives. If you aren't careful it will settle in your bones. You'll neve shake it loose.

Thin is the wind round the old North Queen and thin are those that steer her.

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062 - Spring

Prompt list here

Jonathan sighed, downing the last of his cold tea. It was the first day that truly felt like spring, but he couldn't take himself outside to enjoy it. After he'd finished the sermon for the weekend he had to finish preparing for Helen and Richard's wedding. The florists were due to set up in the church at 2 and there were sure to be last minute discussions with the wedding planner. It was a new lady Jonathan hadn't worked with before and, though he'd never admit it, he wasn't quite sure what to make of her.

As he made his way to the kitchen he wondered what Rob was up to. His partner was home on leave. In theory this meant that he had unlimited free time. In practice, he seemed to end up hanging round in the officers' club, or even back in the wardroom on base. It worried Jonathan, although the other Navy wives all assured him it was pretty normal.

As he filled the kettle at the sink Jonathan glanced out the window and had something of a surprise. In the back corner of the rectory garden a previous incumbenthad set up two raised beds for vegetables. They were long since neglected. When he'd moved in, Jonathan had had great plans for them, but there had never seemed enough time and, to be fully honest, it had looked like too much hard work too. Every so often he'd been mentioning them wistfully, and it seemed Rob had been listening. The top layers of weeds had been pulled out of both of them and his partner was busy digging over the earth in the second bed. It was heavy work. His polo shirt had been discarded on the grass nearby. As he watched the sweat glistening on Rob's back, Jonathan made a mental note to fetch the suncream. The only place that got less sun than Scotland was the inside of a submarine!

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Laurie could feel himself drifting off. The rhythmic rushing of the bow through the waves combined with the featureless view of blue-grey water to put him into a trance-like state. Mind you, it didn't help that they'd had a very satisfactory weekend of food, wine and sun.

The fishermen of St Helier had looked slight askance at them when they'd first arrived, but one evening in the pub had established Ralph's credentials as someone who knew what he was about. The rest of the time had passed in a blissful haze of fresh seafood, local cider and long evening walks on the sands which stretched all the way to St Aubin.

Saturday, as the tide went out they'd strolled after the retreating sea to the castle perched incongruously ona rock just outside the harbour. They'd een given a tour of some of the rooms, then gone to inspect the hermitage and long breakwaters before returning tot he "mainland" for ice cream.

By Sunday, Ralph had charmed someone into driving them to the southwesern corner of the island. There, they'd visited the lighthouse, which was apparently famous and certainly very picturesque. Ralph had enjoyed a very technical debate with the head keeper on the merits of parafin vs electric. Laurie had been more interested in the generous cream teas served at the lightkeepers' cottages after.

When Ralph had first come home talking about the yacht, Laurie had worried. Might it not be too much for them, with their different handicaps, to manage it alone? It was unthinkable to bring someone else along though. It would change the whole experience. He should have realised Ralph wouldn't get too caught up with the idea to forget his limitations.

They'd started with day sails along the south coast. This was as much to get Laurie familiar with sailing as anything else. He had to do the heavy work of raising and lowering sail as that required both hands, but nothing beyond his capability. He'd worried about his limp too, but again it hadn't been a bar to developing sea legs. This was their first proper trip and it had been a resounding success. Ralph was on now about teaching him navigation over the winter, but that was some months off yet.

Yes, it had been a very successful weekend indeed. As the island of Guernsey slipped past as a dark shadow to port in the evening sun, Laurie slipped into a contented doze, not quite asleep but not fully awake either, his thoughts running away down their own paths. A sudden shout from Raph roused him.

"Dolphins!"

It seemed a long time Laurie stared about, blinking. Blue water all around them, nothing to- Wait, yes! A grey back, two, more! Arrowing towards them outlined in white foam. The pod surrounded their small craft, leaping agilely alongside them. Laurie thought he sensed curiosity in the black eyes that looked up at him sidelong. The creatures were quick and powerful, long pale flanks gleaming, completely at ease. They kept company for a few minutes then forged ahead, setting course for Alderney. The little yacht followed.

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096 - Party (Writer's choice)

Prompt list here

As he made his way back to his rented rooms, Francis wondered what exactly he'd been expecting from the evening. As usual, he'd ended up sat in the corner in silence, largely ignored. The larger the group, the less he felt like he had anything worth contributing, and he didn't like to interrupt. That would be rude, and if he was tolerated now becoming an annoyance would change that.

The dreary night complimented his mood perfectly. Usually he could tell himself that if his friends actually didn't like him they'd not spend time with him. Tonight it was as hard to shake as the London fog. He couldn't ignore that other than at these gatherings, where his inclusion was a kind of obligation, the only time he saw them was when he made the invitation. The only person who did take the initiative to spend time with him was out of town for the foreseeable.

There's only so much self-pity a man's soul can take before it curdles into a kind of contempt. Stepping around the worst of the puddles, Francis cursed himself for a fool. Who did he think he was, to want more than this. Did he think he deserved it somehow? It was long past time to accept that no one on Earth was going to choose him first.

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On a night like this, Ralph almost felt he was at sea again. The early storm howled over the streets, shaking loose broken tiles and overripe apples in gardens across the city. All was noise. The old house creaked and groaned in protest at its treatment. The wind moaned round the corners of the eaves. The rustling of the branches on the trees in the square sounded like waves on a stony shore.

The simple surroundings didn't immediately break the illusion. In the low lamplight the polished wooden furniture and narrow bed could easily be a tidy ship's cabin, if one didn't look too far. No, it was the stillness which reminded him that he was off the water. Standing to refill his glass, he'd braced himself for the roll of the deck and been briefly but utterly disoriented when the room failed to move around him.

The consolation should be that weather like this made a raid unlikely. Ralph couldn't draw his mind to that thought though. Out there in the wild night, Odell was tucked up in his bed in that temporary hospital, listening to the same storm. What was he thinking? And how soon would he see him again?

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More prompts!

Just in case the first round wasn't enough

001 Beginnings 002 Middles 003 End 004 Insides 005 Outsides 006 Hours 007 Days 008 Weeks 009 Months 010 Years 011 Red 012 Orange 013 Yellow 014 Green 015 Blue 016 Purple 017 Brown 018 Black 019 White 020 Colourless 021 Friends 022 Enemies 023 Lovers 024 Family 025 Strangers 026 Team mates 027 Parents 028 Children 029 Birth 030 Death 031 Sunrise 032 Sunset 033 Too much 034 Not enough 035 sixth sense 036 Smell 037 Sound 038 Touch 039 Taste 040 Sight 041 Shapes 042 Triangle 043 Square 044 Circle 045 Moon 046 Star 047 Heart 048 Diamond 049 Club 050 Spade 051 Water 052 Fire 053 Earth 054 Air 055 Spirit 056 Breakfast 057 Lunch 058 Dinner 059 Food 060 Drink 061 Winter - [here] 062 Spring - [here] 063 Summer 064 Autumn 065 Passing 066 Rain 067 Snow 068 Lightening 069 Thunder 070 Storm 071 Broken 072 Fixed 073 Light 074 Dark 075 Shade 076 Sun 077 Trees 078 Sea 079 Desert 080 Island 081 Mountain 082 Cave 083 Wet 084 Dry 085 Hot 086 Cold 087 Choice 088 He 089 She 090 Home 091 Birthday 092 Christmas 093 Thanksgiving 094 Independence 095 New Year 096 Writer's choice - Party - [here] 097 Writer's choice - 098 Writer's choice - 099 Writer's choice - 100 Writer's choice –

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Prompt list!

I've dredged this up from The Past for when I'm lacking in ideas

1. Introduction 2. Love 3. Light 4. Dark 5. Seeking solace 6. Break away 7. Heaven 8. Innocence 9. Drive 10. Breathe again 11. Memory 12. Insanity 13. Misfortune 14. Smile 15. Silence 16. Questioning 17. Blood 18. Rainbow link 19. Grey 20. Fortitude 21. Vacation 22. Mother nature 23. Cat 24. No time 25. Trouble lurking 26. Tears 27. Foreign 28. Sorrow 29. Happiness 30. Under the rain 31. Flowers 32. Night 33. Expectations 34. Stars 35. Hold my hand 36. Precious treasure 37. Eyes 38. Abandoned 39. Dreams 40. 4:29 PM 41. Teamwork 42. Standing still 43. Dying 44. Two roads 45. Illusion 46. Family 47. Creation 48. Childhood 49. Stripes 50. Breaking the rules 51. Sport 52. Deep in thought 53. Keeping a secret 54. Tower 55. Waiting 56. Danger ahead 57. Sacrifice 58. Kick in the head 59. No way out 60. Rejection 61. Fairy tale   62. Magic 63. Do not disturb 64. Multitasking 65. Horror 66. Traps 67. Playing the melody 68. Hero 69. Annoyance 70. 67% 71. Obsession 72. Mischief managed 73. I can't 74. Are you challenging me? 75. Mirror 76. Broken pieces  77. Test 78. Drink 79. Starvation 80. Words 81. Pen and paper 82. Can you hear me? 83. Heal 84. Out cold 85. Spiral 86. Seeing red 87. Food 88. Pain 89. Through the fire 90. Triangle 91. Drowning 92. All that I have 93. Give up 94. Last hope 95. Advertisement 96. In the storm 97. Safety first 98. Puzzle 99. Solitude 100. Relaxation

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The strong breeze from the east was welcome as Ælfwulf neared the top of the ridge. Ahead, the road, a grassy swathe between heather banks, stretched away across the moorland. It was hot despite the haze, and he didn't dare use too much water. Settlements were few in this part of the country, just the odd isolated farmstead in the shelter of a narrow valley. That boulder by the ditch would be a convenient place to lean his staff while he adjusted his pack though...

This much heat was unusual this early in the year, and a shock after the late spring. Mentally Ælfwulf made a note to keep an eye on the harvest over the summer. If the crops struggled, the people would too. His responsibilities were never far from his mind.

"We'd best be off. The road goes ever on," he sighed, retrieving his staff.

"It doesn't have to," the creature padding next to him replied placidly. "We could travel a lot faster if you would but say the word." Ælfwuld eyed him in response, but the wolfhound face was inscrutable. It was an old debate, and not one the mage fancied relitigating today, so he merely shook his head.

They continued in silence beneath the dusty blue sky. The brown heather stretched away on all sides, fading to grey as it went. And it was in silence too. At some distance, skylarks trilled their joy into the air, but the human and his companion travelled in a bubble of quiet. Domesticated animals were wary, but the wild creatures sensed the true nature of the large dog. Far better than people did, if Ælfwulf was honest. The stonechat and the hare trusted their instincts more than their sight, that foreboding sense of threat! Threat! Demon nearby!

Humans, of course, rationalised it to a remarkable degree. Everyone knows mages have familiars, demons bound to their will. If their animals seem a little unsettling, well, that's only to be expected. You won't get anywhere if you start taking mind of it. People were stupid and-

Ælfwulf pulled himself back from that line of thinking. He knew to well what lay at the end of it. Once the sense of superiority has crept in, you stop seeing any reason to care what people want, to not use your powers. Broken things can't always be put back together.

"Come on, Dog. We need to pick up the pace if we want to reach Hametun by nightfall."

The being currently known as Dog made no reply, although he obediently matched his strides to his master's. It was hard to tell through the shaggy brown fur, but he might have been smirking.

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Thanks for the tag @argyleheir!

Rules: post a few lines from a writing WIP without sharing the context.

The wind is streaming in from the grey sea, strong enough to be bracing, with undertones of snow. It moans through the crevices of the barren rocks, carrying Johnson's infernal wailing with it across the open arctic landscape. Carefully Ralph sets his hand lense on his knapsack and sighs.

Tagging @ralphlanyon, @hetchdrive, @clandestinegardenias and anyone who has been waiting for the opportunity to share something :P

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For the Sorry Dearie drabble fest:

Ralph's terrible no good very bad day.

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WIP Snippet

Thanks, @mademoiselle-red, for tagging me and shaming me into actually doing something (you're right, it's the only thing that'll work)

Other than the pain, the first thing James was aware of was suffocation. It felt like someone had placed a live coal in his lung which burned and pulled with every breath. There was a weight on his chest. Slowly, he opened his eyes. The pain had been with him for a long time. He had a sense that he'd been buried underground and finally dragged himself to the surface. He was exhausted with it. He fumbled to form thoughts as though through deep water. With every breath, the coal pulled and burned, pulled and burned. He lay on his back in darkness. Someone was beside him, close enough he could feel their body heat. Something about the sensation seemed... off but trying to focus on it was like using a glass through a dawn haze. He let it slip away into acceptance. The weight he struggled to breathe against was an arm slung across him protectively. Movement would take an effort he couldn't muster. He could only endure. How long he lay in the darkness James couldn't have said. Time stretched strangely with only each difficult breath to mark its passing. His awareness of the word outside himself grew slowly. The ceiling above him might be some kind of tent. The breathing of the person beside him was slow, deep with sleep. Memory stirred and woke a new sensation in his chest. Fear. Where was Francis?

I think everyone's been tagged by now? If you haven't, yes you have.

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GUYS I HAVE JUST READ A FIC THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING THE ENTIRE TIME

They should stay! They'd have a way better life if they stayed! Stop taking them back to England! Plz!

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Thinking about being a space explorer and how comparing your lover to the stars would mean something different.

Beautiful, inspiring, magnificent, luminous, radiant? Yes.

Remote? Not so much, but certainly untouchable. Powerful. Dangerous. Come too close and you will be destroyed.

How they might compare themselves to a black hole, pulling you into the mess of their life. Demanding more and more from you. Tearing you apart.

How you're not sure that would really be so bad. Your curiosity is insatiable: you've always wondered what it's like inside a black hole. All that matter being drawn in. Where is it going? What's it becoming?

It's too late to worry about the consequences when you're already past the event horizon, inextricably bound together, soul to soul.

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I had the idea way too late for this year, but maybe one day I'll get round to writing up my Terror space au.

In the mean time, please enjoy the epilogue 😉

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Scene: a yacht is anchored in a secluded bay on a Greek island. It's the early 1960s. As the camera pans in, you see there are two middle aged blond men sitting in the cockpit. The deck boards are up, revealing the engine, and there are various tools strewn about. A third man, with chestnut hair, is passing cups of tea out to them from the cabin. There is a general air that a difficult bit of work has been done and they are taking a well-deserved break before finishing things off.

"I've always wondered where you learned mechanics," Laurie commented, handing the cup over.

Rob glanced at him. "You've never been on board a submarine. It's one of the entry requirements to know how all the pipes and valves work, and how to apply basic first aid while you wait for the real engineers to show up."

"It's true, they're horribly complicated," Jonathan added from further inside the cabin, "I've visited quite a few, not that I saw much beyond the wardroom. You need an advanced degree just to go to the toilet. They tried to show me once and I decided 'it's ok, I can wait!'" He sipped his tea before adding, "Of course, we were only ever alongside at the time."

"You were inviting him to parties then?" Ralph smiled, leaving back against the gunwale.

"Oh no, I was only First Lieutenant at the time."

"I assume that made you the president of the wardroom?"

"Yes, but ultimately the skipper has control of who's allowed on board." Ralph opened his mouth to respond, but Rob hadn't finished. "It was very awkward, he had no space to host things himself. I suppose technically I could have told him to take his parties elsewhere... Not that I would have banned Reverend Lawrence from joing us."

"I should hope not!" Jonathan said, before adding more thoughtfully, "I don't think I was actually ever on board Sword."

"Poor old thing," Rob murmured. 

Ralph glanced at him as Laurie, out of sight, asked innocently "What happened?" His remark was addressed to Jonathan but it was Rob, outside, who responded first 

"I don't know if that was ever properly determined. It seems likely we hit a mine and it didn't go off fully. Defective or something." In the short pause, Laurie's face had the stricken look of someone who knows they've put their foot in it. No one noticed. The other two were watching Rob.

His eyes had taken on a distant look. He brought his cup up as thought to take a sip but instead continued, still staring into the horizon and the past, "What I know for certain is I was sat in the wardroom finishing a report when there was an almighty bang. By the time I'd made it to the doorway there was water flooding up the passageway ankle deep. It was clear there wasn't a future in fighting it, so I started herding everyone I could find into the fore-ends." Another brief silence descended. From his seat just inside the door Laurie couldn't see Rob's face and was watching Jonathan's. From his rapt attention it was obvious he'd never heard any of this before.

"You get drilled and drilled in how to escape, but you always hope you'll never need it. Luckily I'd come off watch about half an hour beforehand and had a pretty decent idea where we were." This time, the pause seemed final. Jonathan slowly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Outside, Ralph said quietly, "You were very lucky."

"Yes. Yes, we were." Rob shook himself and seemed to return to the present. "Right. Well. This engine won't put itself back together." He downed the last of his tea, putting the cup to one side. The practical manner his friends were familiar with had returned.

"No, they don't in my experience," Ralph replied, reaching for the same tone. Laurie leaned through the doorway almost sheepishly to take the empty cups.