Helen Sinclair
working stiff by day, producer of procrastination and occasional prose by night. Feedback is always welcome.
Helen Sinclair
working stiff by day, producer of procrastination and occasional prose by night. Feedback is always welcome.
working stiff by day, producer of procrastination and occasional prose by night. Feedback is always welcome.
working stiff by day, producer of procrastination and occasional prose by night. Feedback is always welcome.
Flaming hair Pounding hooves Legs flayed Eyes white rolling Always winning
The main event. The starred stallion. Ridden, cheered and triumphant as gleeful children holler. All smiles.
…
Falling mane Chipped nails A knocked knee Flaky cornea Always dusty
The biggest problem. That bloody horse. Hidden, derided and side-eyed as adults wonder when It’s time.
“Is she wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”
“Oh my god, yes! She went home with David you know…”
“No way. That's the third bloke now she's been with.”
“They're saying he just dropped her home, but who takes over an hour for a twenty-minute trip?”
“I know right? Isn't she married?”
“Yep. Two kids.”
“David’s married too. His wife put him on probation from last year’s do when he got off with the waitress, remember?”
“Oh shit, yes! I nearly forgot! Haha!”
“Tell you what, if they have shagged then he's going to be looking for a place to stay.”
“Hope he's got a big car.”
“Well, I heard she's offered to take him in because her husband, Lee, has got a job abroad and they're struggling on the mortgage.”
“Really? So David’s going to be her new lodger?”
“Yeah if you want to call him that.”
“Lodged right in!”
“Ha! I know! Honestly, it's so messed up. Who does that to someone they're with? Cheaters are the worst.”
“So scummy. If I was David’s wife kick him out straight away.”
“Should we…no forget it.”
“Should we what?”
“Well, you know, say something.”
“To who? David’s wife? Lee? No way. Not our monkey, not our circus.”
“Plus we don't have any proof.”
“Yeah, that too. I suppose we could…make some?”
“What? Make some? What the hell?”
“Well, kind of mash-up some grainy photos and pretend like they're from some CCTV or something?”
“Oh my god…that’s hilarious!”
“Let's do it just for fun - we can tell them later it's just a prank.”
“Oh my god, I can't believe we're doing this!”
“Budge over I can't see. Your fat head’s in the way.”
“Look, they're there. In the cafe - two seats in from the right. David’s gone to the counter.”
“I see him now. Where's Lisa?”
“Pink top, back to us.”
“Got it. Can't believe they truly fell for it. Did you see her run out when she opened that email? Classic.”
“He's back now - see?”
“Yes. He looks properly angry.”
“Sarah said that's why Lisa wanted to meet in public cos he's so mad.”
“Well, it was your idea to make it look like she was blackmailing him!”
“I know - good one, right? Shush now, let's see what happens.”
“You seen the news?”
“I have yes. And?”
“What do you mean ‘and’?”
“I mean and what? So Lisa’s missing - so what? She wants to keep going off with men she meets randomly that's her bag.”
“But don't you think David might have…”
“What? Killed her? Don't be stupid. Why would he do that?”
“To stop his wife from finding out. And the blackmail and all that stuff.”
“No chance - anyway who cares? None of it was true - it's their fault, not ours.”
“Hmmm…I suppose,”
“Sure. Look at it this way - if Lisa and David hadn't been a pair of cheats…”
“Well, we think that’s what they were doing…”
“…then that's on them. They started it. We just added some flavour and if they took it as real that's on them too.”
“Okay…if you're sure. Maybe we should say something? Maybe try to find Lisa? Let David know it was a prank?”
“No! Not our problem. Anyway, I've heard Gina is seeing Marie’s brother. After what he's meant to have done to that kid, Marie is going to lose her mind.”
“Oh shit! Really? I heard he'd been in prison for it or something?”
“I know! I know! Mad isn't it?”
Hello, I'm Death. The Dark Santa with a sack full of bones. Little demons for elves, Rudolph’s got a black nose.
When I come down your chimney It's more, well, an attack. Heart brain or liver? It's my choice which will crack.
My presents are wrapped In pain, suffering and grief. There's tears before bedtime And then the release.
Here is my list All checked twice. Who is good, bad or ugly Naughty or nice.
There's no rhyme or reason No fast pass or queue. It's just “this guy now, then her.” I keep it simple. It’ll do.
Please don’t worry about these jingle bell moans. Just keep singing your prayers Whilst I make room in the boat.
Jenna misses her family at Christmas time
Jim comes round and tells her of bad rating from his Uber driver
Jenna goes to work Xmas party & comes home and books ancestry test
Ancestry test arrives and neighbour brings package round and mentions delivery guy amongst other things
Jenna gets ancestry email results with family ties
Jenna decided to meet with one of the people against Jim’s wishes
She meets the guy for coffee locally. The guy tries to contact her but she ignores him
Her life starts to unravel (there’s problems at work, her cars tyres are flat, there’s nudes of her sent to her contacts Work pulls her in and suspended, Jim stops contacting her they argue New Year’s Eve she leaves party and goes home)
Knock at door and the man is there He grabs her but she finally escapes
Work let her back, Jim returns but no one’s quote the same No one finds him he’s still out there
When Jenna decides to discover her ancestry she unearths a sinister past which becomes her present.
Jenna Walker has a ‘default setting’ life and she’s happy with it. A small apartment on the outskirts of a large town in central England, a 9-5 job, a handful of close friends and a boyfriend, Jim, who she imagines marrying one day.
One Christmas, Jenna and Jim gift each other ancestry tests with unexpected and devastating results.
Jim disappears, Jenna starts losing her job and friends…who is doing this and why?
In order to get her mundane but safe life back, Jenna must discover the black underbelly of society and put a stop to the wheels she inadvertently put in motion.
Ta-da! What's that? It's a rabbit in a hat. How the hell’s it survive? Oh shit, it just died.
Knock, knock. Who's there is it somebody who cares? If you count murder clowns! (I need new friends now).
Hey you! Who me? My favourite human being. That's sweet! I feel the same. Hold hands, let's run away.
To blink was to miss the chance to spot the ‘watching man’. Her eyes were dry from being open so wide; searching the darkness for a misplaced shadow, an imperceptible movement or change of texture. This new permanent state of intense concentration had cramped up her shoulders, knotted her neck and forced her jaw tight shut. He tongue glued to the top of her mouth.
Her breath stayed shallow and silent, her ribs shaking. Blood pulsated through her head, and every tiny sound escalated in her mind to be the source of her last moment alive.
She wanted to run, turn, scream. Every hard pump of her heart begged her to unfreeze. But yet she just knew that the moment she did, he would stop watching. And start feeding.
When you’re hosting a party in the desert you’re either the enfant terrible of an exiled oligarch or Colonel Gaddafi. Angela was a little from column A and a little too much from column B.
“Jared! The sand!” she shrieked at the waiting staff, who sweated under the millions of tiny bulbs replacing the heat of the setting sun, “It’s on the dance floor again.”
A waiter, presumably Jared, in a full black and white penguin suit, scurried off to retrieve the broom.
“Honestly I thought I asked for this area to be kept sand free at all times! How am I meant to show off my rumba?! I want to glide - GLIDE - not crunch.” Angela’s eyes fell onto a tiny lizard. It sat on one of the huge palms which had been shipped in. Angela’s vision of a lush oasis had certainly been brought to life.
She started to open her mouth to instruct Jared to stop sweeping sand and deal with the intruder but instead, she bent down and examined the little creature. Her blue eyes were keen and judgemental.
“If you don’t fuck off I will collect you and all your family and make you into tiny lizard skin lipstick holders.”
She started to reach her hand out slowly. The lizard darted off scuttling into the now pitch-dark desert.
As Angela stood back up, satisfied that she’d won that particular battle, she noticed that Jared was no longer sweeping. She couldn’t see any of the caterers, waiters or even the sommelier who had only arrived that evening. (His card was well and truly marked).
Heels tick-tocking on the newly installed, yet temporary deck, she peered through the jungle leaves out into the black desert.
And saw nothing.
“Hello?” She heard her voice trail off into nothing. With no structures to bounce the sound meant no echo. It was just her. Alone.
A slight panic built up in her throat. She swallowed it, stubbed out her cigarette and grabbed the phone from her handbag. Scrolling for inspiration, and trying to navigate the multiple tables, she stumbled.
All the tables were tall, the type for sipping cocktails and sniffing coke. As she tripped she grabbed one of these pedestals, making a crystal champagne glass fall to the floor. It tinkle-shattered into a million pieces.
Her gasp held in the air, then dissipated up to the stars, shining like splinters of broken glass miles away in the sky.
Angela began to consider the foolishness of this location. Had the lizard been a sign? Why did she threaten it? Oh god, was he going to come back for her now? Why was she even doing this?
Then - bang.
The lights flashed on, the music began pumping and her friends leapt out from all around her, cheering, laughing, waving gift bags. Their diamond watches and earring give the starred Sky a run for its money.
Angela wiped a tiny tear which started to form from the corner of her ice-blue eye and started greeting her guests.
She snapped her fingers as she sailed past Jared and pointed at the sand on the dance floor.