11 Tuesday Oct 2022
Posted in blog post, Fiction, Flash Fiction, publications
Tags
amreading, amwriting, attraction, dangerous beauty, escape, Flash Fiction, microfiction, publication, SAVA Press, writerscommunity
Many thanks to the Editor-In-Chief, Jesse Rucilez, my flash fiction story Désirée is at the Subject and Verb Agreement Press Blog Spot.
Here’s the link to the story:
Many thanks for reading. 🙂
06 Tuesday Oct 2020
Posted in blog post, Fiction, publications, Short Story, Uncategorized
Tags
amreading, amwriting, crime, death, escape, fate, Fiction, loss, love, publication, Punk Noir Magazine, Ripples on the Pond, Short Story, writerscommunity
Many thanks to Author Paul D. Brazil for publishing my story, The X Factor, at Punk Noir Magazine. This story first appeared in Ripples on the Pond.
The X Factor
Notting Hill, London
Scarlett gazed at Frank, lying next to her in bed. His tousled hair covered part of his face, eyelids framed by dark curly lashes fluttered in sleep. She stroked his hair. He opened his eyes and looked into hers.
“Good morning,” he said, yawned and stretched, and kissed her on the mouth.
Scarlet sighed and held his hand. “Why do you always disappear?”
“Because I’m a spy.”
“Liar, if you were, you wouldn’t tell me.”
“True, but it could be possible — the X-Factor.”
“There’s something spooky about you. I can’t put my finger on it, but you go away for a long time, never call, then you surface and ask me out.”
“I told you. My job requires me to travel.”
“Why don’t you call when you’re away?”
“What’s the point? I won’t be able to see you.”
“Is that what this is…
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29 Friday Mar 2019
Posted in Flash Fiction, publications, Uncategorized
Tags
amreading, amwriting, attraction, beast, beauty, dark, desire, escape, female, Flash Fiction, male, noir, punk, Punk Noir Magazine, resistance, seduction, submission
This happened so fast, I didn’t have the chance to write an introduction. Many thanks to author Paul D. Brazill and Punk Noir Magazine for accepting my story, which ıs both “Punk” and “Noir” but I did not know how to submit it. So, I asked my friend, author Mick Rose, and he lead me. Thank you Mick Rose .
Desirée is a fragment of my imagination. I never know where these characters come from. I guess their stories need to be told.
Thank you very much for reading. 🙂
I met my old friend Tom at an all-night bar I’d never been to before. He’d said, “Come before midnight on Friday, and we’ll drink and talk till we drop dead.” I found him sitting at a table for two, opposite the mahogany long-bar. Relishing an expensive malt, we chatted about work, women, and adventures since we last saw each other a year ago. The place was packed with trendy women and men, all eyeing each other and looking for a good catch.
Shortly after midnight, a rare beauty walked in and the spotlight of every eye lit her like an actress on stage. The other women disappeared into the void, as her stilettos clacked against the wooden floor in tune with the beat of the soft music. Dressed in black, fishnet tights, a leather mini-skirt, and a shawl wrapped around her, she strolled towards the only empty seat at…
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27 Wednesday Feb 2019
Posted in Flash Fiction, publications, Uncategorized
Tags
artist, Azerbaijan, Bayram Salamov, CarpeArte Journal, cats, escape, Flash Fiction, freedom, inspiration, instincts, longing, oil painting, painting, pets, Russia, window, window sill
via Cat on a Window Sill by Sebnem Sanders
Window ©bayram salamov
Window ©bayram salamov
My story, Cat on a Window Sill, inspired by Bayram Salamov’s painting, Window, is in the new issue of the lovely CarpeArte Journal. Many thanks to the Editor, Eva Wong Nava for including my story.
08 Friday Feb 2019
Posted in Flash Poesy, Uncategorized
Tags
abstract, Chemtrails, darkness, daylight, death, earth, escape, food, hunger, known, life, mother nature, new generations, notions, population control, survival, the unknown
I’m sorry I’m leaving your topsoil,
but I must
They’re spraying chemtrails
above us,
poisoning our food, water, and air.
I must take the children to the depths of your bosom
where there’s no sunshine, a blue or a starry sky.
Our leaders have made a tunnel, you see,
I never thought I’d be buried in you before my time.
How will I teach the children about the stars and the planets,
sunshine, moonlight, a breeze, a storm or the sea?
Can these be learned as abstract notions?
I have my worries about food too,
What will we eat?
Will vegetables grow without sunshine and rain?
The scientists tell us we can survive,
they have the seeds and the means to cultivate them,
but I need to see this before I believe in their theories.
How about the sun rays my children need to absorb
for a healthy growth?
Will they fade and whither like cut blooms in a vase?
I worry about so many things,
Have I made the right decision,
is it better to die here or underground?
I’m not sure, dear Earth,
but here we come,
to escape the population control above you,
yet no one knows what will happen
when we’re deep down towards your core.
13 Tuesday Feb 2018
Posted in My Reviews
Tags
abuse, acceptance, connection, Elizabeth Strout, escape, Fiction, goodreads, integrity, life journey, love, My Name is Lucy Barton, review, siblings, the past, the present, trauma
It’s been a couple of days since I finished reading this book and I have been thinking about it since. What makes this book so gripping, almost haunting? It’s certainly not the plot, but definitely the voice of Lucy Barton that conveys the feelings of loneliness and isolation, and her attachment to her past, her family, her parents, and her present, her marriage and her daughters. Written in sparse language, accentuated with repetition to deliver her state of mind, her stream of consciousness, we get glimpses of Lucy’s life, her relationships or lack of relationships, and read between the lines. What is not said is poignant, as well as what has been said. A childhood deprived of love from her parents, poverty, and isolation from the main stream of life. Lucy begins to read books to escape into another world and stays at school to do her homework to keep warm, rather than go home to the cold garage where her family lived during most of her childhood. Lucy is a good student and she breaks free from her past after her college education.
From Amgash, Illinois to Manhattan, New York, Lucy’s life changes, but the past remains with her as we gather from her conversations with her mother at the hospital where Lucy stays after an operation that has gone wrong. Lucy’s mother spends five days with her while they talk about the people in her hometown. Lives that have gone wrong, people who did well, yet experienced unhappiness in the end. Lucy hasn’t seen her mother for many years and she doesn’t see her for many years afterwards, until she visits her mother at the hospital where she dies. Lucy loves her mother, but her mother is unable to say “I love you.”
As well as the many characters from Amgash, Illinois, there are two important people in Lucy’s life that shape her career as a writer. Sarah Payne, the writer, and Jeremy, the sophisticated neighbour who dies of AIDS. Lucy loves her daughters and does not divorce her husband until they leave home. Yet, what her daughter, Becka, says afterwards is something that will stay with her all her life.
Her past is what makes Lucy. The fact that she comes from ‘nowhere’ is something her mother does not accept. It is also the reason that isolates Lucy from her new surroundings, and her husband. Jeremy says she needs to be ruthless to be a writer. Sarah Payne says, “You’ll have only one story. You’ll write your one story many ways.” Lucy knows if she doesn’t divorce her husband, she will never write another story. She finds another man who comes from ‘nowhere’ and embraces her life, her traumas, her dark side.
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2294446004
06 Saturday Jan 2018
Posted in Fellow Writers, Flash Fiction, Uncategorized
Tags
attraction, boredom, comfort zone, competition, courage, escape, Flash Fiction, love, marriage, scribblers, the beginning, the end, unhapiness, winning stories, year-end special
Over this weekend, I’m delighted to share with you the top three stories of the Year-end Special Competition at the Flash Fiction Group I host on Scribblers.
http://scribblers.freeforums.net/board/26/flash-fiction
The prompt was The End and The Beginning, with a 1000 word limit.
Here’s story Number 2 by Author Jennie Ensor:
Photo by Raymond Hui on Unsplash
The End and The Beginning
‘Carl’, Catherine murmured, gazing at the dust jacket of Volume Four of Carl O. Nystrom’s distinctly autobiographical series of novels. She could change her name to Carla, perhaps. ‘Catherine’ was such a mouthful. And everyone spelt it wrong, with an ‘K’ instead of a ‘C’ or an ‘a’ instead of the middle ‘e’.
Come on, Catherine. This Carl thing is getting out of hand. A famous author with millions of adoring fans isn’t going to interested in you.
The author talk at the South Bank was tomorrow. Should she still go? It would only feed her… infatuation. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? She sighed and went downstairs.
‘You’re looking very nice this evening.’
Catherine considered her husband’s remark while crunching into a notquitecooked potato. Tom didn’t usually comment on her appearance these days, didn’t seem to notice her at all, in fact. But any pleasure at his having praised her appearance was immediately quashed by a profound regret at Tom’s limited vocabulary.
Very nice. Was that the grand total of her husband’s feelings for her? Carl would never have used such words to a woman he loved. He would have chosen with care, sensitivity and aplomb from his vast literary hoard.
She studied the decidedly fleshy droop of her husband’s face. Carl, as she had seen in his spot on Meet The Author, had a well-toned body (from various athletic pursuits, she imagined) and wayward wavy hair that hung around his shoulders in that scrumptiously bohemian manner. Unlike Tom, Carl wouldn’t scoff ice-cream straight from the tub during ad breaks, or stop cycling to work because he was worried about getting run over.
*
Her seat was closer than she’d expected. The sight of Mr Nystrom produced a pleasurable shiver, as if someone had traced a cool fingertip along her inner thigh. There he was, not ten metres away, his oh-so-expressive face crowned with a glorious tangle of blonde hair. She longed to be even closer so she could see his eyes properly.
*
Carl was seated on a L-shaped sofa behind a coffee table. This intimate cubbyhole felt oddly surreal, as if she were stepping into his living room.
‘Hello… Carl. I’m so glad to meet you at last. I’ve read all your books.’
His eyes were a mesmeric blue. Blood rushed to her cheeks, leaving her legs to fend for themselves. She swayed. He sprang up, catching her arm.
‘Come sit a moment.’
She almost fell onto the sofa.
‘How would you like me to sign?’
‘Put “To Carla”’.
‘That’s a coincidence.’
‘Isn’t it?’ She felt her eyes pulled into his; the dizziness returned. ‘You’re different to how I thought you’d be.’
‘Really?’
‘Your eyes. They’re so… penetrating. And your body – I never realised how muscular you were.’ No, you can’t say that.
‘Thank you, Carla. You have a lovely body too.’ He put a hand just above her knee. If only this moment would last forever. But her time in the spotlight was ending – she hadn’t even taken a photo.
From the signing queue, a pointed cough. Carl removed his hand.
‘Do you mind if I take a photo of us?’ Catherine took her phone out of her bag. ‘Oh no. There’s no battery.’ What a dork. She’d meant to charge it at the hairdresser’s.
‘I’ll use mine,’ Carl offered, withdrawing a phone from his pocket.
Without thinking, she smiled and tilted her head towards his.
‘I’ll send it to you later. What’s your number?’
She wrote it down.
‘So, did you enjoy the interview?’
‘I didn’t think much of the questions, actually. I would have asked different ones.’
‘Like?’
Do you sleep naked at night? What do you do to arouse a woman?
‘What colour is your cat?’
‘My cat?’
‘In your house in Sweden. I thought you had one. A cat, I mean.’
‘Ah!’ His face crinkled. ‘Sheba. She’s white with a black ring on her tail. She takes advantage though.’
‘Cats do, don’t they? What’s your house like?’
‘Big, modern. Very Swedish.’
‘How lovely.’ She stood, reluctantly. ‘It was wonderful to meet you, Carl.’
‘And you, Carla.’ He stood too, leaning towards her. For a crazy moment she thought he was going to kiss her.
*
Uncharacteristically, Tom came into the hall to meet her. ‘How did it go, love?’
‘Really well.’
‘You’ve changed your hair. You look… like you used to dress for me.’ Tom disappeared into the living room.
Catherine fled into the kitchen, then put her phone on to charge. What was she doing? Did she want her marriage to sink like a weighted corpse into the nearest river?
She was pouring two glasses of water when her phone beeped. She pounced on it.
Hello Carly, here’s your photo. Hope you enjoy the book. My fondest wishes, Carl
Thanks Carl, I am so grateful for this. I’m sure I’ll enjoy the book!
She hesitated, then added three kissing cat-face emojis.
*
For days, while snuggled under the duvet with Volume 5, or in the classroom struggling to convey the concept of irrational numbers to less-than-attentive teenagers, Catherine thought about Carl. She imagined him in his Swedish house, stroking the cat.
Inside her, a constant battle took place. She was determined to forget him, make the most of the life she had. The other half of her wanted to become engulfed by a liaison to rival any literary romance.
*
It arrived just before midnight, a week after the book event while Tom snored gently beside her. She reached over to switch off her phone, then saw the message.
Hello Carla, my apologies for this sudden interruption at such a late hour. The truth is – and I quake as I tap these words – I can’t stop thinking about you. I wish to see again, soon. Could visit me in Gothenburg? Your humble scribbler, C
The famous author wanted to see her! She sat staring at the screen, re-reading the words. Before she could change her mind, her fingers replied.
Yes, yes, yes! Oh please, yes!
Jennie Ensor is a regular contributor to the Flash Fiction thread at Scribblers. She is the author of Blind Side, a psychological thriller published by Unbound.
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/JennieEnsorAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Jennie_Ensor
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jennieensor/
BLIND SIDE by Jennie Ensor
Publisher: Unbound
Paperback edition available from your local bookshop (UK only), including Waterstones, Blackwell’s, Daunt Books and independent booksellers
Amazon (paperback & e-book): https://geni.us/bldsd
Apple iBooks (e-book only)
Unbound (e-book only) https://unbound.com/books/blind-side
****
If you wish to take a look at the other great stories of the Year-End Special, here’s the link to the thread:
http://scribblers.freeforums.net/thread/966/flash-fiction-december-2017-results
Or better still, come and join our bi-monthly Flash Fiction thread at Scribblers. Newcomers are always welcome. Here’s the link to the current thread:
http://scribblers.freeforums.net/thread/972/flash-fiction-january-2018-week
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