More of Chapter 2

The Gone

My feet slap on the hard floor of the terminal. Max has dropped me and is pulling me into a fast run holding my hand. Colin is behind me. I know we are making too much noise. Colin’s dress shoes are clicking and although Max’s trainers are silent he is breathing loudly. I’m not sure where we are going, but I can’t catch my breath to ask. All I keep seeing is the blood. Where are the others?

Max veers to the right and I follow him. There in front is a pair of double doors. They look as if they swing both ways and as Max extends his arm and hits them they swing silently inward. We dash in and they close behind us. Max slows to a jog and then stops. Colin is by the doors peering out of one of the squares of Perspex set into the…

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A bit more of Chapter 2

The Gone

“Where are they?” I ask, looking around the very empty terminal. The group we were with have disappeared and whoever was shooting has gone as well.

“I don’t…” Colin starts to say and then Max grabs us both and pulls us down below the counter.

“Shhh,” he hisses.

In the background I can hear a door opening. Footsteps come closer.

“The manifest says that there ought to be three more.” The voice is very loud and harsh as it echoes around the large room.

“Yeah, but loads never got on.” This voice is low and smooth. He sounds less cruel but I am not going to stand up and say hi.

“Maybe we ought to do a sweep. Perhaps we can find them.” He sounds sort of excited and I wonder what has him riled up. His pace has picked up as well. He is coming straight for us.


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My space

I have a workshop where I write.

It’s a box that is warm in the winter

and cool in the summer.

Shelves cover one wall and

art adorns the sides.

A window sits but you can’t see out.

Instead the cool green of young trees filter

the light.

A sofa takes up the far wall,

but you can’t use it. It is filled with a

dog, quick to wag and smile.

On the desk

a computer, sleek and black.

A sound system beats to Radio Two and

the tapping of keys keep time.

The door is always open and the greeting warm.

This is a place of fairy tale and story.

Stay quiet long enough and you might see

a fae or troll hiding out before they are called

to take their place in the latest tale.


This poem was inspired by the daily prompt – writing space.


The beginning of Chapter 2

The Gone

“Lights,” Max whispers. I can tell he is on my right because he is breathing heavily. The popping sounds are still audible but seem to be much further away.

Max starts to move around and I can only guess that he is running his hands down the wall trying to find a light stitch. He stops.

“Don’t,” Colin says quietly.

Max doesn’t move. The sounds are becoming fainter as if they were getting further away. I think they might be outside the airport.

“What are those sounds?” I ask. I have an idea but I don’t want to admit it.

“Guns.” Colin answers me and I jump. He has moved closer and I hadn’t even realised.

“Shall I crack the door?” Max asks.

“Not that one,” Colin says. “There has to be one out into the space behind the desk.”

I look around and to the left of me I…

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Run away with me.

The last part of Chapter 1…

The Gone

I make it back to my abandoned shoes as Colin starts to walk toward me. I had noticed that the shouting is louder but I’m still surprised at the yelling and gesturing going on. It looks as if they are about to come to blows.

Colin reaches me and takes me by the elbow, moving me out of direct sight.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Where did you go?”

I nod to the door. “The agent came out of there and I had a few words.”

“What did he say?”

“What did they say?” I counter.

He sighs and drops my arm. I’m surprised that I liked the contact.

“You first,” he says. I look at him. I don’t know him, but I also know that I am not going to get out of this situation without help. And somehow I am not sure the rest of the…

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Death in every bite

The daily prompt has asked what I’d put in my very own vending machine… The simple answer is – I wouldn’t.

Today I went shopping. And instead of going to the local shop I went to the larger supermarket. I say ‘larger’ because to me it is huge, but to most people it is medium sized. I once went to one in a city and you couldn’t see the back wall… I am sure I saw the curvature of the earth it was that big. But our large shop has choice.

I love choice, mainly because there is so much I can’t eat. My nut allergy limits me. But the big store has enough variety that there is something I can browse and munch on. It’s the browsing I miss. I have to walk past the chocolate, and the cakes. No processed food for me! So far I have only found two cereals – one of them today… Thank goodness I like Weetabix but after three months it is a little trying. I stride past the freshly baked bread, ignoring the smell and close my eyes to the ice-cream. Finally I stop.

My new love. The thing I snack on – popcorn. I eat it by the packet, but it doesn’t matter. Even if I were to eat two family sized packs I would not reach the calories I was putting away in chocolate and cakes and crisps. Not to mention the nuts – I loved nuts.

So I wouldn’t have a vending machine, instead there would be one of those industrial machines you see in the cinema, which every few minutes would spit out fresh sweet and salty popcorn…