From Heart To Page

The picture prompt in Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge this week is the same as the one I wrote a little flash fiction post to a couple of months ago. So here is is again, just in case you missed it.

I have been tagged for the TELL THE STORY Challenge by the lovely Finding French Charming.

From Heart To Page


Through the school she would float. Flint-like face, devoid of expression. Steely gaze always looking ahead, never distracted by the boisterous actions of her fellow students. Heart and mind locked away from every other. She would sit in class silently and turn in Grade A assignments. There was no fault to her work. But there was no spark of life, no warmth in her manners, no colour in her cheeks. Cut off from all around her, through school she would float.

At the age of sixteen she left school with top exam results. That summer she started walking. She was no longer floating. It is impossible to float down rugged paths and rocky trails. She walked and walked mile after mile. No boisterous actions around her, just peace, serenity. The forest breathing in time with her heartbeat. Something entered her being and began to unlock her heart and mind. Gentle and careful at first, only manifest by the occasional tear which would escape from her eye-lid as she was walking.

Nobody said anything, there was nothing to say. She never uttered a word to another soul. But one day after one of her long walks, she entered a local cafe, quaint and quiet with a small bouquet on every table. She sat in the deepest corner of the cafe facing the wall, rather than the other tables. She ordered a soya cappuccino from the waitress, who promptly delivered it to her table. She pulled out a notebook from her rucksack and began to write.

It all came out, one word at a time.


So I have to choose three other bloggers now and tag them to write a story based on the photo I have chosen:


Although there is no obligation to participate, so no worries to those who are busy with other projects they are working on, the three bloggers I am tagging (although anyone is more than welcome to use the photo if it appeals to them) for the TELL THE STORY Challenge are:

Hiding In The Shade

When I was growing up, I think I took for granted how beautiful England can be.

During childhood, I roamed, along with my sisters and the other children we lived nearby, through the fields and forests that surrounded the sprawling council estates that made up our town. There was the golf course, and all around it, a vast array of every shade of green in the form of fields, copses, woods, shady valleys.

Escaping the grey concrete pre-fab maze of the residential estates and galloping over to our slither of greenbelt paradise. We adventured in earnest. There were trees to climb, there were berries to gather, there were ponds to dangle our little feet in. The lush green countryside was our playground.

stanna roadI remember so well, the first time I saw something that forever changed my view of the green playground where we spent endless days of laughter. I remember crossing the footbridge high above the dual-carriageway separating the housing estates from the rural haven that surrounded the town.

To the right of the bridge there was a little hollow with mostly tall slim trees amidst a few giants. We didn’t usually play there because it was a popular site for fly-tipping. Shopping trolleys, old washing machines and refrigerators, rolls of carpet spoiled the otherwise ideal pocket of paradise we played in. But this day, I turned and looked to the right and lo and behold – a vision of loveliness hiding in the shade.

spring 5I could not believe my eyes. So thrilled was I that I ran all the way home again and described to my mum what I had beheld, “Mum, it’s unbelievable it’s as if there is a blue carpet in between the trees, there are so many flowers and they are all over the ground. It’s so beautiful, you won’t believe it. Please come and see.”

bluebellMy mum came back with me, along with my two younger sisters. Mum told me they were bluebells. Bluebells. That was the first time I heard of them. That was the first time I beheld them and was enchanted by the effect they created. Their abundant clusters hiding away in the shade of the leafy canopy above turning the floor a delightful purple blue. I was memorised.

I visited every chance I had for a couple of weeks to see them. And then one day, they seemed to have vanished, just as miraculously as they came. I was mourning their loss. Mum explained to me that once a year in the middle of spring they would erupt and then flee until the following year.

Since then…every spring I feel that flutter of excitement as April arrives…for that is when I expect to find hiding away in the shade a sea of bluebells carpeting the woodland floor. One of the joys of life – bluebells woods.