RonovanWrites Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt Challenge Review 49

Thrilled that my haiku Monkey Says won the humour choice last week, thank you so much Ron. I love writing humorous haiku! I find it so much more difficult to write serious haiku, so well done to the winner of the serious choice haiku, Melissa Barker-Simpson (Author): Incessant Chatter. Hats off to you. Take a look at Ronovan’s review list of wonderful haiku bloggers there are so many to choose from, all so good.

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5 Photos – 5 days Challenge Day 3 – Wi Fi Red Phone Box Dating!!!


I am currently taking part in the 5 Photos – 5 days challenge after being nominated by Annika Perry from her blog:

Here is my photo and writing for Day 3.

Well, when I saw this Red Wi-Fi box it took me back to the days of red phone boxes, and this kind of inspired this little piece of flash fiction:


Wi-Fi Red Phone Box Dating.

Fifty, Fifty, Fifty, Fifty. Fifty. Five times, that’s enough. I don’t want to be reminded about my age. I’m going to the gym, hanging out in all the cool roof top vistas, and sipping gin and tonics in the sun. Who knows? I might even end up raving in a nightclub somewhere. I’m fascinated by this little red box. Apparently these used to be red phone boxes, how quaint!   Nowadays these red boxes house Wi-Fi hot spots.

It’s tiny. Dark inside. There’s a light switch, click. If I touch this button I wonder what will happen? My hands tremble as my fingertips linger over the device. I give in to temptation. Oops, someone’s knocking on the door, wanting to come in and share my Wi-Fi dream. I wonder if I should let them in? What will he be like? If I don’t find him appealing can I lock him out with a key? Or would that be too cruel?

Then my babbling thoughts are thrust into a hasty retreat as I hear the sound of his voice.

“Hi, I’m Pete,” he says. I can’t see him yet but his voice is promising, nice.

“I’m Liz,” I reply.

“This is different,” says Pete, stepping into the box.

“Yes, it certainly is. Wi-Fi dating. A box of dreams,” I say smiling.

“It’s all new to me,” he says, but his eyes look away.

“Yeah, me too. The red box crew got it more or less right, the roof top vista, overlooking Cambridge city centre looks wicked, and I don’t mind a gym session, but I’m not too sure about the nightclub.”

“Maybe that’s an optional extra, you could opt to press shift?” replies Pete raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I may do. But maybe we should be adventurous,” I suggest waiting to see how he will react.

“Yes why not. I’m up for an adventure.”

I’m beginning to flirt. I remember the signs.

I like that a lot.

“And I’m treating you. I’ll pick up the tab,” replies Pete.

The word tab cuts it dead, and so does treating you. I’m not some sort of invalid. Two slices threaten the circuitry of the red box dream.

“There’s no need,” I reply my voice rising shrilly.

“Don’t worry I don’t possess that key, the one you’re worried about,” his eyes twinkle in amusement, flickers of blue, green, light.

I sigh. “That’s a relief, I wasn’t sure if all my requirements had been noted. How thoughtful of you to say.”

“It’s my pleasure,” his cute accent sends my mind reeling.

I forget all about the tab gaff.

A smile lights up my face as if I’ve pressed the page up and page down key and the smile doesn’t quite know where to stop. Where will it end? Which key will we end on? End, Home or Shift? At least I don’t have to worry about Control (Ctrl.) I don’t want anyone controlling me. No. Not after the last one, the one I had to delete. Fast.

There’s a pause in the conversation, the system’s doing an update. I wait until it’s finished and then I check him out. Boy, this updated verson ticks all my compulsory Wi-Fi boxes, and more. He’s tall, dark and handsome. Not short, pale, bald and pasty. No need to press the up arrow or the right, left key. His proportions are perfect. He’s got an enhanced smile too, even better than before and he isn’t a day over fifty. In fact he appears a lot younger. A lot, lot younger. Twenty years younger. He looks like he goes to the gym. Regularly. So my hands stay well away from the delete key.

“I hope you’re happy with the update?” asks Pete, breaking into my thoughts. He frowns a little as if he’s not sure if  his asking is correct protocol.

“I am.” I find myself blushing.

His tee-shirt rides up a little, my eyes linger, on taut, well toned muscles. For a second or two I seem to have stopped breathing. I remember to breathe.

“Happy Birthday,” I say, with a grin, aware that if I don’t say something quickly my eyes will bore an exploratory hole through his tee-shirt.

“How did you know it was my birthday?” asks Pete.

I frown a little.

“It was a 50/50 chance I was right. These boxes are birthday dates sometimes.”

“Oh, yes I see. Silly me. The fifty slogan on the box, I’m being a bit dim,” says Pete, a flicker of anxiety crosses his face.

“No worries,” I say.

My frown melts. I can update again if need be, no cause for concern.

‘Happy Birthday to you too!”

“Thank you!” I reply with a smile.

“So you’re following the red box’s advice, no right clicks or left clicks? You’re going to the gym, then a drink in the rooftop bar, plus a night club?”

“Yes, might as well, let’s keep it simple. Would you care to join me Pete?”

“Yes lets, what a wonderful idea, I’d love to.”

Pete appears relieved, I notice his shoulders relaxing,  a moment ago they seemed to be hitched up to his ears. I suppose he must have been worried that his birthday was about to be blown out, all  fifty candles no longer flickering.

I press the escape key. He doesn’t sigh but I know from the expression on his face that he wants to. We leave the red box and step out into our date. I need a cool shot of alcohol, all this dating internet shenanigans makes me anxious. Who knows what may happen? But one things for certain, fifty is the new thirty. Maybe we might end up together in the love zone, or even find ourselves at home, no shift key required. Sweet.

© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica.
Words good or bad, are my very own!


Article about converting red phone boxes to Wi-Fi spots:



I hope you might want to join in the Challenge and if you do here are the rules:

‘Post a photo each day for five consecutive days, and tell a story about each photo.  The story can be truth or fiction, poetry or prose.  Each day one must also nominate a fellow blogger to participate in the challenge.’

Today I would like to nominate Julia at My Red Page: take on this challenge, if she would like to.

I look forward to seeing her post.

Thanks for dropping by.


Kyrosmagica x

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5 Photos – 5 days Challenge Day 2 – Kings College Sundial Clock Tower


I am currently taking part in the 5 Photos – 5 days challenge after being nominated by Annika Perry. Check out her blog at:

Here is my photo and writing for Day 2.

I took this photograph one day while I was out in Cambridge, this sundial clock tower caught my eye. It’s part of King’s College, Cambridge.


Sundial Clock Tower

“What time is it Mimi?” asked Elouise, taking off her cardigan, and stuffing it into her over flowing shopping bag. An abundance of art materials peeked out the top of the bag as if paints, brushes, soft pastel sets,  sponges, and graphite pencils were about to escape. Elouise put on her sunglasses, and tucked her long blonde hair behind her ears.

Elouise glanced over at her friend Mimi who was looking up at the heavens as if she expected a response. The sundial clock tower of Kings College Cambridge was just within her line of sight. Elouise knew that Mimi had forgotten all about her question.

Mimi was transfixed, she often did this, just stopped, a paused film track.

Elouise didn’t bother to ask her again. Instead, she poked around in her handbag and pulled out her mobile.

“It’s lunchtime,” she announced.

Mimi still didn’t answer. It was obvious that she was in some private reverie and disturbing her would serve no purpose.

A man started chatting Mimi up, this wasn’t unusual, Elouise managed to hear his first words, not a very original opener. “Hi. It’s a beautiful sundial isn’t it? …..”

Elouise knew that was no way to get Mimi’s attention. A fog horn would be a better approach!  Mimi’s good looks, her perfect figure, long dark hair, and tanned skin meant that she was often stopped in the street. Random strangers came up to ask her for her phone number.  She could have been a model, except for one small detail, her height, she was a little on the short side. Mimi was petite in every sense of the word. If Elouise was to describe her she would say that her friend was a living artist’s portrait, a watercolour of exquisiteness, highlighted with brushstrokes of kindness.

Elouise knew that Mimi wouldn’t acknowledge the stranger. She was still stuck in pause zone, and there was no getting through to her while she was in that state.

The man continued in desperation, his words falling at her delicate ankles like tiny forgotten offerings.

Elouise turned her attention to a nice looking bunch of boys nearby, some foreign students, out for the day in Cambridge.

“What is that?” one of them asked, pointing at the clock tower.

“It’s a sundial clock tower,” replied Elouise.

‘Oh, it’s very fine.”

“Yes, it is. My friend certainly thinks so.”

‘Which college is it belong to?”

“King’s I think.”

“She’s like this often?” he asked gesturing towards Mimi with a grin. “She doesn’t seem to notice anything.”

Elouise sighed. “Yes often. She’ll come out of it soon. She’s in a private little time tunnel, eventually she’ll see the light at the end.”

The boy’s friends moved closer to him. They huddled behind him creating a shadow of shyness.

The boy laughed, his laughter chasing each of his friends’ individual shadows away.

“When she come out of it would you like to join us for a picnic. It’s a sunny day?” he asked.

The other boys stepped forward, “Yes please come.”

“Join us. We okay.”

Elouise was amused to see that the first boy pulled a face, and punched his friend on the shoulder. A friendly warning.

“We have baguettes and cheese, and drinks,” said one of the boys boldly breaking away from the scrum of uncertainty.

“Sorry, but no champagne,” said the first boy, with a wink.

Elouise smiled.

“What’s your names?”

“Bjorn,” the first boy answered.




“Hi Bjorn, Erik, Fredrik, and Maarten. I’m Elouise and my dreamy friend is Mimi. Where are you from?”

“Norway,” replied Bjorn.

At last Mimi turned away from the sundial and faced them. She appeared dazzled, as if she had been staring at the Northern Lights.

Elouise had to do something! Fast, anything to get Mimi back to the present, so she ditched her shopping bag on the ground. Some art supplies managed to escape the confines of the bag. The clatter of the paints woke Mimi up.  Elouise hastily picked them up, before they tipped out onto the pavement, and painted an artist’s impression of Mimi’s expression. Mimi’s face registered the boys first, and then her friend. This was so Mimi! Elouise gave Mimi their special signal for fit boys with fair hair and blue eyes, a quick almost imperceptible, double wink.

Mimi smiled. Mimi’s warm smile melted Elouise’s worries away. She was back! Mimi the watercolour painting was living in the moment again!

“A picnic that sounds fun. It‘s lunchtime. Of course we’d love too! I’m starving. And thirsty! Let’s stop at a shop and get lots of sparkling wine. Nice to meet you Bjorn, Fredrik, Erik, Maarten.”

The brushstrokes of her words tumbled out of her like warming rays of sunshine, lighting up each and every face with a smile.

Elouise shook her head, this was so Mimi. Always caught up in the moment, but secretly listening, and planning a sparkling picnic comeback!

© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica.
Words good or bad, are my very own!

A link to the Gates of Cambridge Colleges:

If you’d like to join in the challenge, and I hope you do, the rules are as follows:

‘Post a photo each day for five consecutive days, and tell a story about each photo.  The story can be truth or fiction, poetry or prose.  Each day one must also nominate a fellow blogger to participate in the challenge.’

Today I would like to nominate my keen photographer friend Olivia at Wording on a Whim  to take on this challenge.

I look forward to seeing her post.

Please do leave a comment. I love to hear from you.


Kyrosmagica x

Thanks for dropping by.

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Five Photos Five Days Challenge Day 1- Lost Dreams, Drug Oblivian


I’m currently taking part in the 5 Photos – 5 days challenge after being nominated by Annika Perry – Annika Perry’s Writing blog.

I would highly recommend that you check out Annika’s blog.

Here’s the link :

Firstly, the rules are as follows:

‘Post a photo each day for five consecutive days, and tell a story about each photo.  The story can be truth or fiction, poetry or prose.  Each day one must also nominate a fellow blogger to participate in the challenge.’

Here is my photo and writing for Day 1.

This is my photo of the one of the locked gates of Cambridge University. Somehow my photo of this beautiful gateway inspired me to write a very sad piece of flash fiction. The mind works in very mysterious ways, well mine does anyway! Forgive me for putting a dampener on such a beautiful setting.


Lost Dreams

Heidi peered through the locked gate, in the distance she saw the neat manicured lawn, the suggestion of a life well lived. There was a brand new bike propped up against the wall facing away from the exit. Heidi wondered who the bike belonged to and why it had been abandoned by its owner. She sighed, climbed onto her own rusty bike and cycled away.

The next day she returned, but the bike was gone. Everything else was just as it had been before. Heidi stood by wistfully peering through the ornate bars. She saw a group of people coming towards the gate, a bunch of undergraduates no doubt. They opened the gate, and each of them seemed to individually register her presence with a quizzical glance. She wanted to stroll in, but she knew she couldn’t. If she did that would just make matters worse. They would see her as she was now, so she stayed outside the gate. Safe. Behind secure bars.

I know without any doubt that Heidi believed that she belonged within the walls of that forbidden garden. It wasn’t her fault, she’d say. Heidi’s downfall started at sixth form, everything started to slip. Leaving secondary school had seemed such a liberation to her but her departure should have come with a warning sticker. Beware: Sixth Form Can Seriously Screw You Up. To begin with the changes in Heidi were barely noticeable, but soon, the pressure built up. An outlet had to be found, a way for her to cope. She ended up at wild parties once a week, and when once a week wasn’t enough, every night became the norm. Then she started to experiment. Her motto became: it’s easy to anaesthetise yourself, pretend you’re okay, when you’re not. At first mum and dad didn’t notice but when her grades started to slip they woke up. Fast. Their perfect princess was no longer bringing home A’s the best she could do was a D, a D  with drugs, dangerous boys, and doubtful friends.

Of course the inevitable happened Heidi missed classes, came in drunk, she got kicked out of sixth form. No second chances. Then mum and dad did what they had to. They couldn’t cope, the stealing did it. I tried so hard to help, believe me I did.  We all did. I blame myself so much. We all do. Now Heidi’s lost. All her dreams are blossoming in that beautiful garden locked within sight but way out of her reach. She might be light fingered but she has no hope of stealing those dreams back. They’re gone forever. Who knows who she might have been? Where she might have gone? All she has now is dream words, I’ll be okay. A new false promise. Health Warning: Time To Fix Herself.

In my dreams I see my sister clearly. I picture envy. She’s leaning on that gate, but the gate isn’t supporting her. I see her ugly red marks, needle impressions and fingers shaking. She’s tugging at its unforgiving bars, raging, pulling them towards her. She doesn’t say a word but I can hear her pain, screaming. I can taste the loss in her throat like it is I who has swallowed the bitter pill of failure. I see her as she used to be, my perfect little sister, and I cry, cry because that is all I can do.  That is all I am left with. That gate is always locked.  The dream is never different.  Her hope lies crippled, planted like a false seed in that immaculate, well kept garden. Many view that ornate gate as a walkway to fulfil their dreams but it bars Heidi entrance, and reminds her of her own prison cell. Life.

© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica. All Rights Reserved.

Today I would like to nominate two bloggers, rather than just one!

Lauren at

and Victoria Davenport at

Thanks for dropping by.

Do pop by again soon, and leave a comment if you can, I’d love to hear from you.


Kyrosmagica xx

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Haiku Poetry Prompt challenge #49 Lock & Gab


RonovanWrites Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt Challenge #49 Lock&Gab

Time for another Poetry Prompt Challenge from Ronovan Writes. If you haven’t joined in the fun well I would highly recommend you do!

Well this time I’ve added a link to a bit of my writing at the bottom of this post, as the prompts were just so me! All comments haiku and writing related would be most gratefully received. Or just come and have a gabber. Either ways I’d love a chit chat.

Oh, these prompts, what can I say? Ron really knows how to come up with great challenge words. Lock, I love it. It just conjures up mysterious, hidden places, and gab well there’s nothing like a good old chatter, unless of course monkey thinks it’s getting out of hand!



Monkeys says

A hum in my brain

Gab on, Gab Off, now stop it!

Lock it up DARLING.



Secret Key Sings

The bewitched attic

A gab about mystery

The secret key sings

I found these particular prompts very inspiring. I wrote about a secret key in one of my chapters of my first manuscript, here’s a link to my writing extract:

If you like this tiny sample of my writing please do let me know. I’d appreciate that so much. Thanks. x


© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica. All Rights Reserved.

Words good or bad, are my very own!

Thank you for stopping by, do come again, I love visitors.


 Kyrosmagica. x

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Break A Leg Dave…Oh, You Did…

Reblog of Steve at Talk About Pop Music’s mix tape for Dave Grohl. I know what it’s like to be incapacitated by an injury –  I’ve broken a foot before. Bless his cotton socks.

Here’s what features on Steve’s tape: James, sit down. Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Relax. The Eagles, Take it Easy. Supergrass, Sofa of My Lethargy. Reef, Come Back Brighter. I’ve got a feeling he’d like Come Back Brighter best, or Relax that’s my guess.

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Writing Challenge: Allergic to the Letter E. Grit A Giant Quandary


Well I’ve been nominated to do an unusual challenge from Colleen over at Silver Threading.

I’m not one for reading the rules too well, so I’ve just stumbled upon no. (3.) Do the challenge within 24 hours, EEK!!!! Anyway, why not?  I’ll have a go. I’ve got a feeling that this will be a useful exercise, and I reckon that the end result might be ridiculous. But that’s okay I like ridiculous, so with that in mind I think I’ll just make it a monster story. Oh dear monster has an E in it, so does just about every other word too. Quick re-think? Me thinks. Giant perhaps? Yes Giant works.

Well starting this and my computer’s got other ideas it keeps on over heating. I reckon my husband has cast a spell on it, he gets a bit fed up when I spend too much time blogging! UGH!!!!

At last it’s cooled down.

So on to the task in hand:

Here’s the link to the original post from Colleen:

Here are the Rules: (Courtesy of Colleen at Silver Threading)

1) Write a whole paragraph (A WHOLE PARAGRAPH??) without any words containing the letter “e” (still easy?)

2) By reading this, you are already signed up.

3) Challenge at least five bloggers to do the challenge. They must do it within 24 hours or it is considered as failure.

4) If you fail or pass, suffer in the Page of Lame.

5) If you win, wallow in the Page of Fame.

My effort:


Grit A Giant only had a passion for words. Nothing could rock him. Only words. His passion for a,b,c,d.

“Oops what’s a wrong?” his giant pal Frank would say.

“I can’t find a way to go past D.”

His giant pal saw his chin drop as Grit had a hasty gulp, and a swallow.

Frank did a crack out grin. “How about a work past it pal, try a frightful F?”

“F stands for fail and I don’t want to, I’m grit, I’m in this until I crush that  …..oh, I can’t say that word.”

His pal pat him on his back. It was all too much. Grit’s crying was not Giant protocol.

Grit would fizz and his brain would fog on its way past d. It was no good. What a bum job. How could Grit A Grizzly Giant show a chink of pitiful?

His rivals would find it so tantilising to taunt him.

This is what a rival bunch of giants would say, “Such a choking bumbling fool of a giant, Grit’s such a stupid git.”

Grit’s soul was bust.

That fifth word would always haunt him. Poor Old Grit. A giant fan of Sci-fi but no split infinity would cross his lips you know which s.i. I’m thinking of.

So his pal said, “Why don’t you a grab and shout out an X for that a word you can’t say?”

Grit found a grin in hiding, put it on, and said, “to boldly go whxrx no man has gonx bxforx.”

Grit was a happy, grinning  giant.  Still a git, but that’s not this story. All his Xmas’s had found a way to roll in right now!


My nominations:


Hope you enjoy!


Kyrosmagica x


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The Creative Blogger Award


Thank you so much to My Personal Teen Life for nominating me for the Creative Blogger Award this one means so much. It’s taken me some time to get this post together, I’ve been real busy recently, so apologies for being a bit slow.

Here’s the link to My Personal Teen Life’s  blog. It’s lovely. I would highly recommend that you check it out. :

First of all I’d just like to say I’ve been getting quite a few awards, first of all it was the Thunder award, followed by the Sisterhood Award and now this. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve cast a spell on my fellow bloggers, I’m smiling a lot, Kyrosmagica, white witch style, and it’s not even Halloween yet!

10393682_976284289056818_7636206669828528129_n Me

Well whatever it is it’s very nice indeed to be nominated for these awards, and then being able to share them with some of my bloggy friends too.

So here are the rules:

1. Thank and post the link of the blog that nominated you.

2. Share five facts about yourself to your readers.

3. Nominate 10 other blogs and post their link.

4. Notify all the nominees via their social media/blogs.

5. Pass the rules on to them.

Five things about me:

1. I’m quite a messy person, and tend to flit from one activity to another. If you meet me in person you wouldn’t think so as I dress quite smartly but this is just a smoke screen, believe me. If you should see my desk, no on second thoughts you really don’t want to see my desk, that would be so embarrassing! No desk photos allowed!

2. I’m a water person, I love the sea, and really enjoy swimming. If I was to be reincarnated as a fantasy character I’d like to come back as a mermaid! A nice one though, all shiny and colourful.

3. I’m terrible in a crisis, so don’t count on me if you’ve fallen down and fractured something. Unless you’re over the initial crisis part, and then I’ve very helpful to have around. Which is just as well as my family tend to make quite a fashion out of breaking things, my brother his elbow, myself my foot, my husband his leg, my dad his ankle, my eldest daughter her ankle, (you can read about this calamity here:….. Even my youngest daughter isn’t exempt from drama, you might like to find out more about her unfortunate experience with a sea urchin in Greece:

Anyway I digress, back to the crisis situation as I said I’ll most probably panic. I’d make the worse nurse ever. Sadly, this is most definitely true  my mum fell down and broke her shoulder on the way out for a Chinese meal. It was scary, partly because she’s over seventy, her blood pressure shot up, and she looked really bad. Scared me to bits. But, I gathered myself, and went with her to the hospital in an ambulance. Luckily her shoulder’s healed now, but the memory is still fresh in my mind. Ugh!

4. I have a fear of heights which was a nightmare when I tried to go skiing, but I overcame it, and managed to ride cable cars, chair lifts, etc. One time I didn’t manage to get off the chair lift in time and a hunky ski instructor had to lift me off himself, I didn’t complain! Some women have a thing about men in uniform, well I have a thing about men in ski gear! Handsome Paramedics too they come in very handy when you’ve broken your foot!

5. I love my food a little too much, particularly satay and banana fritters. I used to eat these in Malaysia, and would love to tuck into some right now. YUM!!!!


My nominees:

Ten is just not enough, there are so many others that come to mind (some of which I have already nominated for other awards before)) but here goes …………..

Remember this award isn’t compulsory, if you want to join in that’s great but if you don’t that’s fine too. Don’t worry I won’t cast a spell on you!

To wear a rainbow – Silver linings in a Woman’s World:

Words across the oceans. Lover of poetry, books, music, art & exploring of life!

Nigel Borrington’s Photography blog:

Tofino Photography:

Lucile De Godoy. Bridging Lacunas.

Inese MJ Photograpahy blog:

Stefan Viklund Photography blog:

Patricia No. Art by Mimulux.

Shari Bradbury Photography and Writing

Artist Kirt Tisdale talks about his Art Gallery



Thanks for stopping by. Don’t be shy leave a comment, I love to hear from you.


Kyrosmagica. Friendly white witch x




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Writing Extract: The Mystery of The Talking Key

blue green glass eye MGD©

This week amongst other things I’ve been working on Ronovan Writes Haiku Prompt Challenge, which I’ll be posting on my blog soon. Here’s the link to his prompt in case you’d like to participate.

Ron’s prompt words Lock and Gab triggered a memory out of an attic, an attic that exists in my first novel, or should I say manuscript as it is currently unpublished. This getting published business isn’t easy. You don’t realise just how hard it is until you try yourself. I remember ages ago one of my fellow writers saying to me that she had sent out boxes and boxes of letters to publishers and agents and every single one had come back in the negative. Well in my case, I’ve sent out in the region of twenty enquiries. This isn’t nearly enough. I read somewhere that you have to query at least one hundred people. I know this is probably true but I hate rejections they eat into your soul.

So I’m sharing this small writing sample with you to get your valuable opinions.  This is from a chapter later on in my novel, when my main protagonist Amelina goes exploring trying to look for answers to the puzzle of her life. She steals a key, which leads her to discovering an attic room with a hidden away secret.

If you like it please do say, and if there are ways in which it can be improved do comment, I really would appreciate it so much. Thanks. x

A tiny shaft of light trickled in alighting on a far corner of the attic. Amelina moved towards the light carefully trying to avoid the obstacles in her way. Nearly twisting her ankle climbing over boxes, and old suitcases, she saw a light shining like a torch on to a delicate hook, where an object was dangling. She scrambled towards it and saw that it was a golden key.

As she grabbed the key she heard a strange noise, which sounded like a shrill voice recording with a constant playback sound. The voice became louder and more agitated as she made her way out of the attic.

“Put me back, thief,” the mechanical voice said. It babbled on, “I was enjoying the sunshine streaming in. Don’t you know how cold it can be in the attic? A bit of sunshine cheers me up. How would you like to be surrounded by unwanted things all day and every day?”

Amelina couldn’t believe that the key was talking to her. She did her best to ignore the ranting voice, and started to climb out of the attic, but her progress was slowed down by a sheer drop that suddenly appeared. There was a tiny ledge to the left of her with just enough room for one small foot. She knew that if she didn’t balance perfectly on that ledge she would fall down the steep steps, and it was a long way down.

 “You’ll get me into trouble you will. Bring me back thief!” shouted the voice.

Amelina ignored the voice. She edged herself out of the attic, poised her foot on the ledge, and balanced like a trapeze artiste before jumping to the step below. Her heart was still racing, adrenalin bubbling up to the surface in short gasps when she turned the key and opened the door.

The key groaned and sighed deeply, “You’ve done it now. There’s no turning back.”

© Marjorie Mallon 2015 – aka, Kyrosmagica. All Rights Reserved.


Thanks for stopping by. x

P.S. I found the mysterious puzzle image at the top of this post on MorgueFile free photos.

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