The Moon’s Light

How long has it been brother, since I saw you lost to her. How many guilty years have I wondered and feared the events of that night. I remember the moon was high, casting beams of crystal light over the fields. A warm breeze blew through the open attic window while we slept.

I woke to the sound of singing, looked up and saw you gone from your bed. I rose and looked out the window to see you running through the long grass towards the woods. I quickly dressed and followed in your direction. How could I let my twin be out there on his own having all the fun? I knew you were probably up to no good.

I caught up with you quickly but not quick enough to see you walk out into an opening in the woods I could not recall. A circle of trees surrounding a cottage sat off centre to the circle formed.

As I got closer I could see you standing away from the cottage, swaying gentle to the singing as a young woman stepped out. Walking toward you, you seemed oblivious to her presence as she got close and joined in your sway. She, gently lifting your arms placing them on her shoulders while her hands held your waist.

I looked up at the moon above seeming to uncannily light the whole circle as would a spotlight on a stage show. Then there was silence and I looked down to see she had walked you towards the cottage and stop just short of the door.

She leaned in to kiss you but she stared back over your shoulder at me. Ebony black eyes caught a twinkle from the moons light and no longer did hands embrace you.

I turned and I ran.


Copyright © JRFC August 2019
Image from Pixabay

The Door Man

It was then I must have passed out.

I didn’t know how long I was out for but I woke suddenly feeling very bewildered, unsure of what had happened. Looking around the darkened room, I thought it was close to night.  A squinting glance told me it was still daylight, as the sun fought to shine through grubby windows.

Slowly moving, I got off the very dusty floor, stood there a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light trying to work things out. Then self-preservation kicked in. My senses quickly sharpened as the realisation of what had happened came rushing back to me. I was no longer in the pristine room I had passed out in.

I ran for the door and was just about to grab the knob when I remembered how cold it was. I tentatively tapped it several times to see how it felt. It was back to room temperature and not freezer cold.

I turned the knob but the door stayed shut. Panic came over me as I frantically turned and pulled at it. I looked up and realised the latch was off. I flipped the catch and the door immediately opened almost knocking me to the floor as I pulled it.

I bolted from the room, down the corridor and hurdled the stairs two and three at a time until I got to the lobby only to be stopped by a door man standing there.

“Hello Sir, can I help you”, he asked me.

“Not really”, I replied.

“Well before you go I have a message for you”.

“A message?”

At this point I’m doing all I can not to freak out and just barge past this guy but again curiosity held fast. I just hoped I wouldn’t end up like the cat.


To be concluded

Find out how the story begins.

Copyright © JRFC May 2019
Image by Brigitte Werner from Pixabay

A Cold War Nightmare

“Your ego is writing cheques your body can’t cash”, a great Top Gun quote and kind of how I’m feeling.

My fight with my demented monkey is not getting any better so I’m gonna make a strategic retreat and take a time out. I’m afraid to say that I just can’t multi-task and I’m suffering for it. I seem to have a lot going on at the moment and I’m struggling to keep up.

This is not good bye this is see you later, at least from a writing point of view. So as a parting gift I’ll leave you with a failed short story. I entered it into a competition after some persuasion but to no avail.

Maybe I’m just not a story writer. Still I wrote it so I’ll publish it like I do. My attempt at a 300 word Flash Fiction.

Hwyl Fawr Ffrindiau.

A Cold War Nightmare

It was all over the news. Chaos had ensued around him and all he could do was stand there at the edge of the shore.

He should have been thinking about other things, like life flashing before his eyes kind of things. Instead he stood mindfully watching the gentle tide ebb and flow around his feet as they sunk into the wet sand.

He didn’t think that morning that the day would end like this. End; such a resolute word, to end, to stop, to cease, he just didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t do anything about it because there was no more time.

No time to play games on his console. No time to go to the movies, No time to kiss and hug his loved ones and say goodbye. No time.

No more time because they were coming. That sound, that distinctive sound coming from the horizon, getting closer, getting louder. His mind was trying to distinguish it with something different to what he knew it was. A hurricane, a tsunami, a swarm of giant killer bees, anything with a chance of survival after the event.

Unfortunately, this was not natural; this was manmade by stupid, incompetent, childish Man. He giggled to himself ironically, as he thought ‘who am I to judge’.

He was soon pulled from his thoughts as the sound became something to look at racing across the sky and yet time seemed to slow down. It was such a beautiful day with the sun shining bright in a pale blue summer sky. Not a cloud could be seen to hide the horror that was about to envelope the world. Then silence.

Silence as he watched the first of the missiles drop from the sky and hit the sea with a blinding white flash and… The end!


Copyright © JRFC February 2019

Images from Pixabay, modified by JRFC.



This one, written last month, was a combination idea from a game I was playing at the time and an unfortunate topic that recurred in nightmares I used to have as a teen. Odd combination I know but I’m afraid it did inspire this harrowing thought.


For what!!

To celebrate the audacity

Of a mushroom cloud



No one left but

The ruined statues for

The millions dead

Who will never see


Just mutilation

Left to rot and decay

And wash away

In storms of acid rain


A ravaged earth

Torn apart


And scarred


Not even the essence

Of history

Will morn this troubled



As the ash of a

Previous existence

Now rests in

Polluted air


Where memories die

Not even their ghosts

Want to wonder

A dead world


Proud nation after

Proud nation

Felled one skyscraper

After another


Its people culled

In the name of peace

And protection

Of one another


Or so the Powers that be


When they pressed the button

And all for what!!


Copyright © JRFC December 2018

Image from Pixabay

One Room, One Light

This grizzly little number was posted in July last year and was the result of a bloggers challenge.

One Room, One Light

What’s going on in the middle of the night?

That one room with that one light


What’s going on in the middle of the day?

The room with the light that never goes away


Remember, curiosity can be a killer

Your mind may boil, your body may blister


You know what happened to the cat?

It didn’t end well I’ll tell you that


The horrific sight, a man and his wife

Both clinging on for dear life


Playing a game they thought was safe

Then lightening balls began to strafe


The portal opened, a very large hole

A demons hand to take a soul


Their bodies were left all shrivelled and white

Just lying their having died of fright


Okay I confess, it’s a story I heard

And agree its rubbish, completely absurd


But that one room;

With that one light;

Continues to shine;

All day and all night


Copyright © JRFC
Image from Pixabay, modified by JRFC