Monthly Archives: September 2015

Godmother’s Fairytale Ending


I got eight points in the first heat of the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction challenge.  Hoping I can do well in the one this weekend and go through to the next round!  My genre was fairytale, my location was a senior citizen’s home and my required object was a disco ball.  This is my story.  Hope you enjoy it!

Godmother’s Fairytale Ending

Senile dementia they called it. A very serious doctor had told her in a very serious tone that she had senile dementia, then arranged for her to be cooped up in here, surrounded by very serious nurses. They told her what she knew wasn’t actually true. She had senile dementia and if she didn’t want to take her pills, there were other treatment options available. Senile dementia. If she ever got hold of those two sullen petulant girls…

Problem was no-one realised the stories were true and that they rolled over again and again and again. That’s why they thought she was mad. They all knew the story of the girl with the pumpkin carriage and the glass shoe, but when she told them about the others, well who would believe her really? Carriages made out of china teapots and disco balls. Girls running out of parties in Mary Jane’s and neon pink platforms. If she hadn’t known better, she probably wouldn’t have believed it either.

Either way she was stuck here, and it didn’t look like that would change any time soon. If only Fairy Godmother tears summoned someone to come and rescue them.

Staring at the remnants of the tea in her cup she didn’t notice the man quietly sit down beside her. ‘I believe you’ he whispered close to her ear.

She gasped as she noticed his face practically touching hers, but couldn’t take her eyes from his.

‘I’m the same as you,’ he said, quietly between laboured heavy breaths. ‘They told me I got it too, but I know they’re wrong. I know the old stories, the ones you’re in. I know them wolves was outside my house. ‘allucination they said it was. Nah, they’re wrong. Them wolves was outside my house and one day they’ll all regret not listening to me.’

She held her breath, her heart thundering in her chest. His story sounded crazy, but then, so did hers.

He glanced over his shoulder and leaned close to her again. ‘I can get us out of here,’ he told her now, a glint in his eyes. ‘I was leaving myself tonight anyway. If you want, you can come too’.


So now she was out in the gardens, under a full moon, waiting for this man who she hardly knew but had put all her trust into. She squinted at her watch. Ten to twelve. She was starting to panic now. She’d told him it had to be before midnight. No escape after midnight ever goes well. They always find you if you leave after midnight.

‘Don’t look so nervous.’ The whisper in her ear made her jump and she saw his eyes staring into hers once more. He lifted an apple towards her mouth. ‘Just one little bite’, he said, his lips barely moving. ‘Just one little bite and we’re gone, out of here, happily ever after.’


All the nurses found the next morning was one pink dew soaked slipper.

Chained to Earth


That’s how they feel
Heavy, dead, numb

Useless lumps of weight
Useless lump of weight I am

No pain

I wish there was
To feel pain
To feel anything
Would be divine


I have had enough
Why didn’t I pass?
Why am I stuck here?
In this state
In this manner

Heavy useless lump of weight

Chained to earth
Anchored to life

Too heavy
Too numb
To die

Copyright, D M Day, 2015

Grandmother’s China


Blue and white
Hairline cracks
A reminder of a simpler time

Plates, cups and saucers
Three tier cake stand
Sugar tongs

On a dresser of highly polished oak
For something so fragile

Don’t touch
It’ll break
To be looked at

Never to be used again
Just look at it
You can see the dust thicken

Over the blue and white

Copyright, D M Day, 2015