Friday Fiction: Double Feature
But it's not a Science Fiction one
Here’s this week’s Friday Fiction, written by two of my author friends.
Earlier this month I taught a WRITE! session on “fun with words”. As usual, it was a full room of wonderful writers, and I was impressed by what they came up with for the prompts I’d deviously devised.
One of the challenges was to write something for Creative Caerlaverock, inspired by at least one of the five key words: Siege, Supper, Storm, Sanctuary, and Spirit. Rosie and Justin both came up with poems that incorporated all five words, and I’m featuring both their poems in one double bill because they are partners.
Fun additional fact: when Rosie sent me her poem she said, “10 points if you can guess who my favourite poet is haha”. My instant reply was “Echoes of Poe, something like Lenore?” Turns out I was right!
Enjoy! Karl
The Princess
Once upon a clear crisp evening, while I gazed upon the stars, white gleaming,
A lone, cold tear raced t’ward my chin, broken spirit.
My heart beat thudded beneath my breast, as I tossed all thoughts of my moral quest,
I slithered to bed for desperate rest and whispered “sleep a minute.”
“Blasted storm within my brain,” I muttered, “sleep a minute” –
Yet the storm raged on, broken spirit.
Retreating, I rose and paced my chamber, mind still racing in weary labour.
These stone walls ensnared my soul, broken spirit.
Desperate for release, locks dancing with the night’s breeze,
Turning towards the dark abyss, sighing “Please! I know my limit,”
Turret window dominating the land, I yelled out “I know my limit!”
Silence. Broken spirit.
A moment later, a pitter patter, has someone heard my mournful chatter?
Is this it, are my prayers heard, restoring my broken spirit?
“Please god, my merciful master, I’ll repent to any pastor,
Free my soul from this disaster, with just one visit.”
I listened still and I listened sure, “just one visit,”
Nobody came – broken spirit.
The foreign noises, confused me still, as I peered out from my window sill,
Till the frayed ‘supper rope’ was cast before me, broken spirit.
I gathered the pot, rancid rotten veg – my lot.
Recoil on my face, excitement shot, rope returned to the captor, git!
How dare she imprison me in this perilous tower, my captor git!
To see out my life’s days, broken spirit.
Sitting still, engaged in siege, once a girl of bestowed prestige,
Till stolen from my family home, by a broken spirit.
Body against my chamber walls, sinking, I dreamed a peaceful thinking,
Of a prince, on a horse, armour clinking, rescued from the woeful pit,
Nonsense! He knows not that I’m here, in my woeful pit,
In my infertile sanctuary, with this, my broken spirit.
© Rosie Squires-Cowan
Castle of My Mind
Within my sanctuary, I am under siege,
Anxiety and stress – my only liege.
No guards on the gates, no lock on the door,
Most days I struggle to rise from the floor.
No battles raging across the plains,
Yet everyday crippling chest pains.
Outside boasts peacefully – calm and tranquil,
Inside, dark and flustered, consuming my pill,
Fire lit, body sheltered and warm,
Mind not protected from the torrid storm,
Food and water in plentiful supply,
No tears when I’m broken, cheeks are dry.
Family gathers to enjoy our suppers,
Failing to stay present, my mind scuppers,
No song or dance to raise the spirit,
Tortured by demons; Devil, Ifrit.
Begging the torment will be over soon,
Hoping screams fade to a lighter tune,
Peace will reign as it did before,
Pray, happiness return once more.
© Justin Squires-Cowan
About Rosie Squires-Cowan
Rosie has been writing short stories, poems and dramatic monologues for as long as she can remember. More recently, she has written blogs for a tech company based in New York and she is working on her first novel: a story for children, teaching them online safety. Rosie’s day job is a civil servant, so she spends her time juggling work and family life, living in Dumfries with her husband and step-daughter. Rosie’s dream is to publish her first novel and she continues to work towards this.
Always a lover of the works of Edgar Allen Poe, Rosie create a nod to his work with The Princess. “We all know the Princess in a tower story, but I wanted it from another perspective. When I pictured her rattling around in her tower, alone, slowly going mad, I visualised the chamber in ‘The Raven’ by Poe. I’ve never written in his style before but I tried to play with his distinctive rhythmic abilities.”
About Justin Squires-Cowan
Justin Squires-Cowan is a civil servant from Dumfries and Galloway. In his free time, he creates various jottings, mostly humorous or satirical, from short stories to poetry. Some of which, may never see the light of day but offer him a therapeutic outlet after a long day at work. Occasionally, inspiration takes Justin to less comical avenues, showcasing his more vulnerable side.
Justin is currently working on a novel based on his job, which encompasses the highs and lows of life as a public servant. Through a blend of humour, rants and reflections on trauma, he aims to provide his readers with an intimate glimpse into the daily life of his role.
Other works by Justin include a romantic poem dedicated to his wonderful wife, Rosie, which he entered into a competition hosted by the online social community, CMXChat. This poem was published on CMX’s blog. Justin built on his affectionate works by dedicating a poem to his daughter, who now, herself, is developing her own writing style.
For this poem Justin drew from the metaphor of a siege, and combined it with a topic close to his heart: mental wellbeing. Justin raised his banner and charged towards the challenge.