The bedroom walls shake as he slams the door behind him. I wait a moment, listening. I hear the throaty roar of a car engine as it turns over and the high-pitched squeal of tyres as he speeds away. I sigh, slump back on the messy duvet and swipe tears from my cheeks. My lip
It’s the start of a brand new year and I’ve already thrown myself back into my writing routine and started ticking off my goals. One new story has been submitted to a publisher and another is languishing in the wings, waiting to be polished. I attended my informal writing group last night, “Writer’s Table,” where
My last original short fiction offering for 2019, a short story about love and letting go. This story is copyright. Except for the purpose of fair review, no part may be stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including recording or storage in any information retrieval system, without permission
Written in response to the prompt of “sloth” for a seven deadly sins collection, this short was ultimately not accepted. So I’ve polished it up a little and put it here instead. Another Christmas treat, if you will. Milton was loitering outside his local pub, smoking a pungent roll-up, when he saw it fall from
As a Christmas and Friday 13th gift to my readers, I wrote this very short, seasonal tale. A Victorian-themed, vaguely dreadpunk, Penny Dreadful kind of offering set in a cold, dark wintery night in the northern hemisphere… “M’lady, if it pleases you, your carriage awaits.” The manor doors were flung wide open to expose the
Original short fiction by Tabatha Wood, copyright 2019 My dearest Percy, you’re present in my memories all the time of late. I know why, especially with the anniversary and all, but still, it’s hard. I thought I’d put my thoughts to rest when you were. I try so hard to stop myself. I know there
My collection of poems about motherhood, family, old friends, spiritual journeys and the sea entitled, ‘RISE’, is available to download for free on Smashwords. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/988694 I’ve had all my poems sitting together in a folder for a while now. I’d published them in drips and drabs on my blog, but I’d been planning to do
A sci-fi poem reflecting on the end of the world. future_imperfect_by_tabatha_wood.mp3 Where were you when the red rains came? When the first flames rippled through the forests with their hot, bright fingers of pain. Did you turn to watch or try to flee? So many were struck by terror and shock. For some, blind denial,
I had been plagued for weeks by a recurrent dream involving a tree, but of what species I could not tell. Its branches were long and its leaves were wide, and its trunk was smothered in patches of green moss and layers of loose bark. As I got closer to it, it reached out to
This weekend ended up being the One Where I Didn’t Do Things. I didn’t go to a social meet-up I had been planning to go to due to feeling unwell. I didn’t send off a story before a submission deadline because I realised it needed a lot more work to properly shine. I didn’t work