Tag Archives: #newblogpost

Meet The Author 2025 – pt 3

A lotus flower

The last few years have been beyond challenging on a personal level and in a creative sense as time moved on I became further and further stuck in the mud and the words refused to flow freely. Now, over the past few months, the lotus blossom is slowly emerging from the mud and the words are beginning to flow. I’m hoping in time to see the lotus bloom in time🪷

I’ve thought about this one on and off all day. .. 🤔

I’ve always been open on my Author page and my blog about myself so it’s beyond difficult to think of something that I’ve not already shared

As its mental health awareness week, it feels right to say that my key coping mechanism is journaling. I’ve kept a daily diary since 1982 but over recent years have journaled extensively. Maybe one day I’ll share them with the world.

I get the most support from my friends and family. Without my Infamous Five I wouldn’t have got this far. I draw support from this Facebook author community and from the lovely reviews that are left online for my book babies. Those honest words help to fuel the fire of my creativity.

The dream would be to see my books on the shelves in bookstores.

For now the immediate dream is to get book baby 9 over the line. It’s getting there but it’s just taking more time than I’d like.

Oh…. 🤔

Respected, entertaining and heartfelt

As for where you can find more of my words….Amazon or here on my blog 😀

Summer This or That…just for fun

Beach or Pool?

Beach every time! Love the feel of the warm sand under my toes, the sound of the waves crashing ashore and the breeze off the ocean. Bliss!

Bookstore or Library?

Bookstore. I gave up going to the library a very long time ago because I ended up in the bookstore buying the books I’d borrowed and returned from the library. I need my own copies. I’m weird that way.

Ice Cream or Popsicles?

To be honest, I can live without either but I do enjoy the occasional vegan ice cream.

Sunset or Sunrise?

Ideally both. I’m greedy that way! I love the peace of a beach sunrise that promises a new day ahead. I also love the weary warmth of a beautiful sunset at the end of a perfect day.

Walks on the beach or Hikes in the mountains?

Walks on the beach. I love grounding myself with a walk along the beach. I love the feeling of the damp sand under my bare feet and the ocean waves gently lapping over my skin.

Ebook/Audiobook or Actual Book?

Ebook generally, especially if I’m travelling or sitting on the beach or outside in the sun. I love an actual book too but never ever an audiobook.

Get up early or Sleep in late?

Get up early, some mornings earlier than others. I’ve never been one for sleeping late unless I’m ill.

Fireworks or Fireflies?

I associate fireflies/lightning bugs with summer. I love to watch them flitting about at dusk whenever I get the chance. Fireworks mean Gut Fawkes Night and winter to me.

Sports or Concert?

No surprises with this answer – concert! I love my live music.

Bookmark or Dog Ear?

Bookmark…always bookmark. Readers who dog ear pages should be banned from bookstores and libraries for life!

Independence Day (acrostic poem)

Invitation to all to invade the beach

Not a square inch to spare

Decisions… Decisions about where to stop

Eventually settling on a sandy sunny spot

Preparations are key

Everything is set up just so

No tents allowed…sorry Mr Lifeguard

Duly noted, sir

Equilibrium restored

Now to soak up some sun

Charging my batteries

Emotionally restored

Daring to hope for a better life

Anxious about what my future holds

You have this under control, girl.

Silently Watching As The Rose Moon Wanes

Disregarding the risks, the dark angel landed lightly in front of her mausoleum. The previous enchantment that had held her captive there had long since been lifted but she still scanned the area for magical wards as a precautionary measure.

“Careless, Son of Perran,” she muttered under her breath. “Very careless.”

Once inside the tomb, Anna wove a seal around the entrance to keep her safe from prying eyes. With a click of her fingers, she lit the wall sconces, the flames instantly creating some flickering light and dancing shadows. Looking round, she saw that all of her hiding places had been discovered and most of her possessions taken, with the exception of the few things strewn across the floor.

With a sigh that reeked of melancholy, the dark angel sat down on the stone bench seat and drew her cloak around her. After the events of the past few months, she needed time and peace to think. She had fed before returning to her home but knew that the remnants of her meal would soon be discovered, limiting her time for contemplation. It had been a tempting thought to make her victim a vampire to give her some company, but she lacked the energy to nurture a fledgling and the patience to train one. Instead, she had left the fisherman’s body floating face down in the small, isolated loch. His passing resemblance to Jem was what had attracted her to him, his blood satisfying her thirst.

Reaching into the folds of her cloak, Anna pulled out a purple leatherbound book and smiled to herself. She had hidden her grimoire inside herself when she had first been captured. One swift spell had prevented it from falling into Meryn’s meddlesome hands. Over the years, she had worked hard to enhance the spells that were recorded in her mother’s grimoire, creating her own strain of dark magic. Now though, she had no one to pass that knowledge on to… except for Luna.

Gifting the baby her mother’s spell book had been a risk, a necessary risk. Eventually little Luna would grow up and inherit Meryn’s grimoire, Trine’s if she had one plus her own. Assuming the little girl worked on her own grimoire too, it would make Luna the most powerful vampire with magic powers that the world had ever seen.

Now all she needed to do was figure out a way to be involved in the little girl’s education.

On the eve of the summer solstice, Meryn prepared to take her leave. She had stayed on at the beach hut after Michael had departed to help Trine and Jem reinforce the enchantments around their home. The three vampires had combined their powers and created wards in the surrounding area that would trigger if a vampire or any creature capable of magic came near. They had even gone as far as creating protective wards out in the river. As a result, the beach hut was as impenetrable as Stefan’s castle.

“Do you need to go?” asked Trine quietly. “We’ve room. You could stay here for the summer with us.”

“And who would keep an eye on your father if I stayed?” laughed Meryn, reaching out to hug the younger woman. “We already agree that you would all winter with me. Come for Samhain. There are some lessons for you to learn that will help you to teach Luna the arts.”

“You are not teaching our daughter magic,” stated Jem firmly. He was holding Luna balanced on his hip and the baby was reaching out to pull at his wings.

“Jeremiah,” began his mother just as firmly. “Your daughter has magic flowing through her veins. She needs to be taught how to master it before it controls her. Both you and Trine need to be taught how to teach her.”

“And if we refuse, mother?” he challenged.

“Then the little girl you are holding in your arms could grow up to be more dangerous and out of control than Anna.”

“But she’s a baby,” protested Trine.

“How do you think that doll fell off the shelf onto the floor yesterday? Or how did those soft play cubes find their way into her cot?” countered Meryn. “Luna is a natural witch and a natural vampire. The Cinque Famiglia bloodline is powerful. She’s already testing her powers. She can’t help it. Its instinctive to her.”

Both Jem and Trine turned to star at each other, both terrified by what they were hearing.

“I’ll see you in time for Samhain,” continued Meryn as she opened the door. “If you need me before then, send for me.”

Before either of them could reply, the older vampiress stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

A huge crow sat in the trees to the east of the beach hut. It was perched high up in the branches out of sight as it watched Meryn disappear into the night.

Silently Watching Under a Rose Moon

A huge crow sat in the trees to the east of the beach hut. It was perched high up among the branches out of sight.

The light summer evenings were Jem’s favourite time of year, but they also presented him with the biggest challenge. A lack of darkness made it difficult to hunt and to run undetected. As he stood in the doorway of the beach hut after the sun had set, he had a burning desire to do both.

They had been back at the beach hut for a couple of weeks and novelty of being able to come and go as he pleased again hadn’t worn off. If Stefan had been allowed to have his way, they would still be trapped back at the castle. He was grateful to his mother who had eventually intervened on their behalf and convinced Stefan to let them return home.

Behind him, Jem could hear Luna crying. She was teething and nothing was settling her for long. At almost nine months old, the baby was quite clingy to Trine making it hard for her to find time to hunt. Knowing how challenging things were for his mate made Jem feel a twinge of guilt about heading out for a few hours.

Drawing his wings about him, Jem transported himself up into the hills behind the village. He touched down lightly near a stand of pine trees, checked around him for any obvious signs of danger then set off along a forestry track at a fast pace. A run first then he would hunt.

Ever since his mother had injected him with her potion, his Rabbia Sanguigna had remained quiet. He hadn’t felt the urge to savour human blood for months. While they had been confined to the castle, she had insisted that he still take some every week but he hadn’t had any since they had returned home. In his heart, he hoped that her cure had worked, He had no stomach for taking any more human lives.

A few miles from where he had started his late-night run, Jem paused, sensing movement in the air. His eyes were drawn towards an old, abandoned bothy off to the right. Something about the semi-derelict building felt off. Curiosity got the better of common sense and he turned off the trail to investigate. When he reached the low crumbling building, he gently pushed the front door open. The wood was so split and rotten that Jem was afraid it would disintegrate if he used too much force.

Death and decay filled the building’s single room. Quickly, his eyes became accustomed to the dark and he spotted something lying awkwardly in corner beside the fireplace. It was a body, a male body. Its features were barely recognisable. Off to the side lay a large stone with dried blood and clumps of hair stuck to it. Whoever the man had been, he’d been beaten to death, his skull smashed to pulp by the rock. Taking a closer look, Jem recognised that the man was wearing a prison uniform, a Level Zero uniform. With a feeling of dread, he realised that he was looking at David, the prisoner who had escaped at the same time as Anna. Something was clutched in the corpse’s fist. Carefully, Jem pried open the decaying finger. Three feathers fluttered to the ground. Black feathers with purple tips…Anna’s.

“Fuck,” he muttered, slipping the feathers into his pocket.

Staring down at the dead vampire, Jem acknowledged that he couldn’t risk leaving him there. He couldn’t take him back to the beach hut. Somehow, he had to get him back to the castle.

“Mother,” he thought, focussing his mind on an image of Meryn. “Mother!”

“No need to shout, Jeremiah,” she scolded him, her voice crystal clear in his thoughts.

“I’ve found David. The missing prisoner. He’s dead.”

“Where?”

“In an abandoned bothy a few miles from the beach hut,” replied Jem silently. “He had some of Anna’s wing feathers in his hand. His skull has been smashed with a rock. I need to know what to do about the body. We can’t risk humans finding him here.”

“Stay there. I’ll send someone to fetch him,” instructed Meryn.

Unable to stomach the smell any longer, Jem stepped back outside, immediately taking a deep breath of fresh cool night air. Scanning the surrounding landscape, he wondered if Anna was out there somewhere watching him. All he could see was heather and gorse and long grass. There were no obvious hiding places for her. A chill ran through him at the simple thought that the dark angel had been this close to his home and his family.

A few minutes later, he sensed a movement nearby and seconds later Michael, accompanied by two Level Zero guards appeared round the side of the building.

“Jem,” greeted Michael calmly. “I got your message. Where is he?”

“Inside,” replied Jem, reluctant to go back into the bothy.

Michael signalled to the two guards to retrieve the body then turned back to Jem, “Tell me how you found him? You’re a long way from your beach house.”

“I transported myself here to run and to hunt. I usually do. When I reached here, something felt off. I saw the bothy. Went inside and he was just lying there,” explained Jem. Reaching into his pocket, he produced two of the three feathers. “These were in his hand.”

“Anna,” stated Michael as he took the feathers. “Have you seen or heard from her?”

Jem shook his head. “There’s been no sign of her. We’ve been extra vigilant.”

“Stefan’s going to want you back at the castle after this,” commented Michael. “He has a duty to protect your bloodline.”

“We’re staying here.”

“That might not be your choice to make, Jem.”

“I’m head of the Cinque Famiglia apparently so I say we’re staying here.”

“To be honest,” began Michael. “I’d feel the same. I’ll try to persuade Stefan to let you stay here. If there’s any suggestion that she’s here though you need to let us know immediately. I know she created you but she’s dangerous. Very dangerous and unpredictable.”

“I know.”

Behind them, the two guards emerged carrying a body bag between them.

“Master Michael,” began one of them. “The prisoner David has been drained of blood. If Anna killed him, I think she fed from him too.”

“Shit,” muttered Michael.

“If she fed from him, would that not make her ill?” questioned Jem, trying to recall the vampire history lessons Trine and Meryn had drummed into him.

“Not if she mated with him first,” replied Michael. “We need to get him back.”

“Of course,” nodded Jem. “If I see or hear from her, I’ll be in touch via my mother.”

“Be careful, Jem. No risks.”

“I hear you.”


After Michael and the guards left, Jem stood leaning against the stone cottage gazing out over the moorland. Knowing that the dark angel was out there somewhere was making him anxious. Why had she risked coming back here?

It was almost dawn by the time he returned to the beach hut. He had come upon several deer grazing near a patch of woodland and had fed from one before killing a second, draining its blood into the flasks he carried to help feed Luna. Raising a vampire baby was proving to be more complicated than raising his human children had been. The baby needed her mother’s milk and blood to thrive. It would be several years before they would be able to start teaching her how to hunt for herself. Until then, he needed to split the hunting duties with Trine.

When he entered the hut, he found Trine sitting by the wood burner with Luna cradled in her arms.

“I was beginning to get worried,” Trine confessed, an anxious furrow knitted into her brow. “I expected you back hours ago.”

“I went for a long run first,” replied Jem, deciding against mentioning finding the dead escaped prisoner. “Took me a while to find some deer too.”

He passed her the two flasks that he’d filled. “And how has our little princess been?”

“Grumpy,” stated Trine. “I think she’s teething. I can see the tooth just below her gums. Hopefully the blood will settle her for a few hours.”

“I could try to find something to help in one of the shops,” offered Jem. “I remember there was a gel that helped…” He faltered then added, “Before.”

“I’ll try anything,” admitted Trine wearily as she reached for his hand. “You miss them, don’t you?”

Jem nodded but remained silent.

“You can talk to me about your previous life, you know,” persisted Trine softly.

“I know,” he acknowledged, running his hand through his hair. “It’s easier not to. I’ll go and see if I can get something to help her gums. I’ll be back.”

“Be careful. It’s getting light outside. Maybe you should wait until tonight.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed.

“Go and rest. I’ll feed Luna and join you as soon as she’s asleep.”

Alone in the bedroom, Jem removed the feather from his pocket and lay on the bed twirling it round between his fingers. An uneasy feeling had settled over him and he couldn’t shift it. With a sigh, he opened the drawer in the bedside cabinet and slipped the feather under a book that he had been reading on and off for years then closed the drawer.

A tiny mouse squeezed under the door to the beach hut, pushing a pearly black, blue and white pebble ahead of it. With great determination, the small rodent guided the stone through the hut and down to Luna’s nursery where it managed to climb up and push the pebble under the mattress of her cot. Silently the mouse disappeared back the same way it had come.

In the week leading up to the full Rose moon, life settled into a gentle routine around the beach hut as Jem and Trine shared the chores and parenting duties. Luna’s tooth had popped through and as result she had been more even tempered. Their evenings and nights were busy; their days were spent sleeping or safely indoors out of sight of the dog walkers, runners and cyclists who formed a parade past the hut as they travelled along the narrow coastal path. With some guidance from Meryn, they placed a cloaking spell around the hut that made it look deserted to any casual observer. The spell also soundproofed their home and prevented Luna’s cries from attracting any unwanted attention.

For the first time since Luna’s naming day, they felt safe. So caught up was he in domestic bliss that Jem all but forgot about the feather he had hidden in the nightstand and the dark angel’s presence.

“Jem!”, called through Trine. “Did you bring in more logs yet?”

“No,” he called back from the bedroom.

“I asked you to do it this morning,” replied his mate sounding frustrated. “In fact, I asked you to do it yesterday too.”

“Trine,” stared Jem striding through to the living room. “You’ve not asked me to fetch logs. You sent me off in search of horse blood for Luna.”

“No, I never.”

A cold chill crept over Jem as he began to sense what was going on.

“Did you send me out to grab more nappies last night?”

“No!” retorted Trine sharply. “Why would I? We agreed I could hunt last night, and you’d stay with Luna.”

“Fuck!” roared Jem, running his hands through his hair. “I need to reach out to Meryn. Where’s Luna?”

“Napping downstairs in her cot. I just checked in on her.”

“Check on her again and bring her upstairs until my mother gets here,” instructed Jem firmly.

Without questioning him, Trine ran down the narrow staircase, her wing tips catching on the edge of each tread.

Focussing inwards, Jem reached out to connect telepathically with his mother. Initially he sensed her blocking charms, but he persisted, silently yelling her name.

“This better be important, Jeremiah!” Her voice reverberated through his mind.

“It is.  I need you here now. I think Anna’s been shapeshifting. She’s been in the house,” he revealed, trying to keep the rising panic out of his words. “Bring Michael with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Bring Michael and hurry.”

Shortly before midnight, there was a rustling noise outside the beach hut followed by a sharp knock at the door. When he saw his mother and Michael outside, Jem let out a long sigh of relief. Within a few minutes they were all seated in the small living room with a glass of blood infused wine.

“Start from the beginning,” encouraged Meryn, reaching out to take her squirming granddaughter into her lap. “Don’t leave anything out.”

Avoiding Trine’s gaze, Jem explained about going for a run and finding David’s body with the purple tipped feathers clutched in his hand. Sheepishly, he confessed that he had kept one of the feathers.

“Why?” asked Trine quietly.

“I don’t know,” admitted Jem with a shrug of his shoulders.

“She’s his maker, Trine,” reminded Michael calmly. “There are blood ties that Jem can’t undo and emotions that he can’t help but feel.”

“Michael’s right,” added Meryn. “Do you still have the feather?”

Jem nodded.

“Good. We might need it,” stated Meryn. “Has anything gone missing or turned up unexpectedly in the house?”

“Nothing we’ve noticed,” replied Trine, looking round the room.

“What about in Luna’s nursery?”

“Come and check for yourself,” invited Trine, getting to her feet.

Still holding the baby, Meryn scanned the nursery using her highly tuned intuitive senses. Her attention was drawn to the baby’s cot.

“Jem, lift the mattress please,” she instructed, her senses twitching.

Having tossed the baby’s soft toys onto the floor, Jem pulled out the mattress and bedding. In the corner, balanced on the wooden slat sat a crystal that shimmered blue and green.

“Where did that come from?” he asked, looking at Trine. “Did you put it there?”

Trine shook her head as she reached through the bars of the cot and picked up the stone. “Labradorite?”

“Yes,” confirmed Meryn. “A good choice to be fair.”

“Was it meant to harm Luna?” demanded Jem sharply.

“No,” replied Meryn instantly. “My guess is that Anna wants to awaken Luna’s natural magic. Labradorite heightens intuition and encourages psychic development. It’s essentially a stone of protection. I don’t believe she means to harm Luna.”

“She wants to teach her,” whispered Trine a realisation creeping over her. “First the grimoire and now the crystal.”

“That would be my guess too,” agreed Meryn, looking round the room.

A book on the wooden wall mounted shelf caught her eye. It’s creamy coloured cover appeared to shimmer making it stand out from the story books around it.

“Michael,” began Meryn. “Can you bring me the cream-coloured book from the shelf, please? Second last one on the left.”

Reaching for it, Michael lifted the small leather-bound book down and examined it. He flicked through the pages then looked up, a puzzled expression on his face, “It’s blank. Nothing in it. “

“Yet,” added Meryn cryptically.

“Yet?” echoed Jem feeling totally confused about where the strange book had come from.

“It’s Luna’s grimoire, isn’t it?” asked Trine taking the book from Michael.

Meryn nodded.

A huge crow sat in the trees to the east of the beach hut. It was perched high up in the leaves out of sight as the full Rose moon shimmered casting a bright creamy trail across the river.                         

The Measly Jar of Motivation – today’s challenge…

Today’s challenge is to show up for your writing and write about it.

Oh, tough one, Measly Jar!

To be honest, I show up every day for my writing in some shape or form.

As a bare minimum, I write my diary and complete my daily gratitude journal. Last Christmas, I received a copy of Donna Ashworth’s daily journal “Words to Live By” and I’m completing that too. I’m enjoying the challenge of completing it. Her prompts are thought provoking and I’m trying my best not to overthink my answers. It’s a weighty tome so I am currently contemplating how to keep it on track when I’m away for a couple of weeks next month. I’ll figure something out, I’m sure.

Today as I write this, it’s a Bank Holiday in the UK and I’ve definitely shown up for the “planning meeting” about my writing. My focus for the past couple of hours has been my blog- yes, this blog- and planning out the posts for the next few weeks in an effort to work out how many more I need to write to cover the dates until I return from my summer holiday in mid-July. I generally try to keep a couple of weeks ahead of the game with my blog as I don’t like to feel the pressure of “needing” to write a blog for the current week. I also don’t like resorting to “On Holiday – back in two weeks” type of emergency blog posts. They feel like cheating.

Apart from this post, I have two more to come up with and I’m covered until mid-July. Go, me, being all planned and organised! LOL And, no, I’m not giving you a sneak peek at what’s already scheduled. You’ll just need to be patient.

Where I’ve perhaps not been so good at showing up for my writing is in the evenings when I have time set aside to work on my current “book baby”. This one is turning out to be a bit of a “baby elephant” – two years and then some in the writing so far. I’ve blogged about it before so don’t intend to repeat myself but since The Big Green Gummi Bear’s passing in October 2023, I have struggled to get back into the flow with it.

At the start of 2025 I promised myself that I would make a concerted effort to get it written and I am getting there. It’s just all taking much longer than I am entirely happy about. The words are finally beginning to flow more freely so I now feel more confident about completing it. Even that was serious doubt for a while! Do I feel confident enough to share any of the finer details yet? No!

There’s also a distinct difference between showing up for your writing and your writing showing up for you. Getting the two in sync can be tricky I’ve discovered.

Most evenings I sit down at my desk prepared to write for an hour or two. Some evenings the words flow and before I know it, I have a thousand words on the page; some evenings I’m lucky if I add a hundred words. Over the years, I have learned not to force it. If I try to force the words onto the page, I invariably end up scrapping them the following night, rendering it time wasted.

There’s also writing “housekeeping” to be done on a regular basis. As an Indie author, there’s no marketing team behind me, so I set time aside, usually on a Sunday, to schedule the promotional social media posts that appear on my author page. This is also the time slot where I set up any book giveaways that I have in mind. Marketing and advertising aren’t my strong suits, but I try my best.

Have I risen to the challenge today…. Ask me again in a few hours.

Diamond Ring (an acrostic poem)

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend …or are they?

I stared at my wedding rings emotions spilling over

And felt a fraud.

Marriage died a long time ago

Our vows cast aside in favour of adultery

Never did I break mine

Decisions. Dilemmas. Dichotomy.

Rings were tearfully removed, releasing the past.

I felt naked and lost.

New ring selected with self-love in mind

Giving myself permission to “marry” my future.

(image sourced via Google – credits to the owner)

Meet the Writer 2025 – part 1

For the third year in succession, I recently took part in Beth Kempton’s Meet the Writer online challenge. Fifteen prompts/questions over fifteen days that will hopefully give you a bit of an insight into my creative world. As before I’ll split this across three blogs.

I love creating and developing my characters and getting to know them. I love creating their world. In my current work in progress, I’ve enjoyed losing myself in my fictitious view of the San Bernadino mountains. It gives me somewhere to escape to as I write and takes me away from my day-to-day mundane world. I hope in time my readers will enjoy escaping into the mountains too.

Much as I love to sit outdoors and write, this is my usual cluttered creative corner. My traditional writing desk sits in the corner of my living room. I upgraded to this a few years back. Before that I sat at my kitchen table to work.

Evenings have evolved to become my writing time. I endeavour to carve out a couple of hours a night during the week and take what I can manage at the weekends. I journal daily and keep a diary so there’s some form of writing involved in every single day

I love writing in any season but as the days grow warmer and the nights are lighter, I love being able to write outdoors.

If I’m writing a novel I need 5 identical notebooks so that the first draft is all in books the same. I like turquoise, pink or purple ink to write with unless I’m writing my Silently Watching vampire angel tale. I’m that case the notebooks and ink should be green. Poems and blogs I tend to write in pencil. I also need Alexa or some source of music nearby

to be continued….

Continue the Story…Dawn (flash fiction)

She jumped from the train, rolling in the dust before coming to a stop. A sharp pain shot through her right ankle. Breathing heavily, she reached down and rubbed it as she flexed her foot. It didn’t appear to be broken. With a groan, she clambered to her feet, testing her weight on her throbbing ankle gingerly. Her backpack had come to rest about a hundred metres back down the track. Seconds before she jumped, she had thrown it out, knowing that her desire not to lose it would give her that final boost of confidence to make the leap.

Her heart was still pounding as she limped back up the track to retrieve it. As she hoisted it onto her back, she looked around her. Nothing but fields to be seen for miles. Field after field after field stretching across the flat landscape towards the horizon. Squinting into the early morning sunshine, she thought she could make out a road in the distance. With no better plan in mind, she headed down the shallow scree slope beside the tracks, climbed the barbed wire fence and set off through the field. Keeping to the boundary so as not to damage the crop planted there, she walked in the general direction of the road.

As she walked, she felt the weight of her past begin to lift. True, she was only twenty-three, but she had lived and endured more in her short life than most folk twice her age.

The fresh new day stretched before her as she mentally created a new identity for herself. The person she had been was gone. She’d left them on the train. Her future lay ahead beyond the fields.

“Dawn,” she thought. “My name is now Dawn.”

Letting the shadows fall behind, she kept walking.

Fortune Telling

Recently I have been taking part in one of Beth Kempton’s #tinypoem challenges. I love these as they keep the creative juices flowing. You get a one-word prompt for the day and 10 minutes with no editing to come up with a poem. Simple, right?

A recent word prompt stirred nostalgic childhood memories. The word was FOLDED.

Immediately a picture formed in my mind’s eye.

Who else remembers making “fortune tellers” from a folded square of paper when they were a child?

Who can still remember how to make one?

Back then we didn’t need tarot cards or astrology charts to predict our future. All we needed was a piece of paper and our imagination.

Those were the days….

Folded

A square of paper

Folded on the diagonal twice

Opened out

Corners folded into the centre

1, 2, 3 and 4

Flip it over and repeat.

How many of these have I made?

What fortunes did they foretell?