Perched around a bench; aimlessly filling our time. A plane landing in the field we share, with the same monotony as the expected clack of the letter box, it revs and turns. Swooping like an injured eagle, its magnificence tarnished by its disfunction. It attempts once more.
As I watch, encased in a car in awe as it fractures and falls. A flaming missile tumbling towards me, yet I am still. Urging it forward as the seatbelt straps my carcass to its metal coffin. Within moments I exhale. It has left me untarnished and I am snapped into normality. My home becoming my family’s tomb. Racing my heart, I empty room after room, grabbing the living and dead alike.
They are safe and yet I return. Unlatch the door and breathe in the toxic fumes. I am drawn away from the flickering, resisting like a moth, as an unknown voice beckons me towards them. The flames cold, blister my skin, grab hold of my wrists, and pull me in and I willingly obey.
- Jen Pickering
This was another university writing piece from 2016 inspired by the prompt:
Write a creative piece which responds to a vision or a dream you may have had.
I wish I could remember that dream! Seems like I went on quite the rollercoaster!
Love Jen x
Jennifer Pickering 