That’s Amore…?

I have started drafting a new character for a story set in Italy about different generations of women and the men in their lives.  Nonna is obviously not happy with her choice of man!

Nonna slapped the espresso machine into existence and steam gathered in a cloud on the mirror over the bar.  She glared in the mirror into the middle distance and swore under her breath.  Her good-for-nothing husband was sitting there as usual like a fat salami in the square with all his friends.  She shoved the milk jug under the frother like she was holding his head under a tap.  He sat there enjoying himself while she did all the hard work as usual.   Her assault on the coffee machine came to a halt and she poured two caffe lattes out into massive china bowls.  She carried them over to a table and came back to the counter for two brioche and some paper serviettes.  “Gianna, come down amore.  Breakfast!”  She sat down in the booth and waited for her grand-daughter to appear.  She wouldn’t bother to make her husband breakfast or sit down and eat it with him. 

Up and Down

This post was inspired by my new favourite course provider – Writers’ HQ and the Flash Face Off theme Up and Down. I chose the following picture as my inspiration: 

I wanted to fly.  Everything was pulling me upwards into the sky.  I breathed deeply and pulled my arms backwards as if I was in a swan dive off the top board.  I stepped up onto the ledge ready to take flight.  I stepped up from the graffiti covered concrete roof top and my toes felt their way to the edge.  I pulled myself up to my full height and breathed again.  The air was so clear and fresh.  What a difference 23 floors made.  I allowed myself to linger.  The world seemed to pause with me.  I couldn’t hear anything – the traffic was muted; the wind had stilled; the hum of the air-conditioning unit held its breath.  

The feeling of standing on the edge was intoxicating.  Gravity pulled me forward and down.  Everything inside me wanted to fly.  I resisted the natural urge to be pulled to the ground.  Adrenalin kicked in and survival instinct made me want to take a step back to safety.  Stay there for another minute! Do what you came to do!  I shouted at myself.  The coward in me whimpered and had already gone back to cower at their desk on the 15th floor. 

I stayed.  I opened my eyes to look around me at the other office blocks which jostled for position in the overcrowded city.   I wondered if other people would be on the roofs with their own personal challenges.  But there was always just me.  Getting a little bit braver every day. 

I took another breath and stepped back into my normal life on the 15th floor.  My day would come very soon.  They’d never know what hit them. 

The Virgin and the Dragon

This is an idea I’ve been playing with. The dragon is a man who had been turned into a lizard, and is clever enough to make a living while he is a lizard. He uses smoke and shadows to appear bigger than he is and he successfully scares the villagers so they don’t bother him. The girl is not afraid of confrontation with a dragon and doesn’t fall for his tricks. The lizard needs someone’s help to exact revenge on the warlock who turned him into a lizard.

Life couldn’t get much worse.  She was staked out in front of the dragon’s lair waiting to be burned to a crisp.  She sighed and puffed her hair out of her eyes.  The sun was rising over the mouth of the cave.  If the blooming dragon didn’t turn up soon she’d be roasted alive by a different fire source.  Her hair was red and her skin was white, rapidly turning pink.  Getting a tan wasn’t part of her life.  She squinted up at the hessian rope tying her to the stake.  Maybe the sun would burn through the rope and she would be free?  She puffed again, this time in exasperation.   What had she done to get to this point in life?

Continue reading