Category Archives: Stories


Don’t go out. Don’t go near. Don’t uncover. Just don’t!

We are living the dream.

Those festivities we avoided with such flippant negligence is now a distant memory.

Zoom. Zoom. Google Meet. Teams. Whoop!



What a way to communicate.

Jokes agitate as Tiktok concentrates the bored.

Meetings with half-dressed workers fade to tirades for and against the vaccines and face masks.

The sound of tumbleweed rolls across school room floors.

Stillness catches on the feet of silent students sitting through online lessons, pretending to care.

Each household occupant mesmerised by screens – all shapes to fit all sizes – fuelling the need to educate and replicate finances.

We grow as people.

News becomes the main course of entertainment; briefings from the Government is seen as prime time television. Yet, it plays out like a soap opera, portraying predictable plots with caricatured speakers grinding out soliloquies of fortitude to the nation.

We grow weary.

‘Get children back to school!’

‘Vaccinate the vulnerable!’


‘Nothing was done fast enough!’

Hyperbole flows in rivers of information, confirmation and confrontation from all corners of the continent. Unsettled murmurs of incompetency grow as fear is replaced by anger. Explanations and apologies hold as much value as a bag of Dolly Mix.

In the meantime, we count the souls like lost teeth.

More bitter than sweet.

Life becomes hard to swallow.

Copyright ©Eloise De Sousa (2021). All rights reserved.

Without Saying Good-bye

They fall through the cracks, slip by

The keyholes; each holding the branch

Of humanity. I cry for your hand

To keep hold of fading memories

That twist like wisps of smoke

Into the darkness. You sigh with your head

Raised up to where heaven might be,

Praying for the romance of a final



Copyright 2020 ©Eloise De Sousa

Free Write – Limber limber limber

Pigtails. Snot trails. Black cat. Soap hat – hatricks that you mix with the may weather, fay weather friends that bend into a frenzy of fun and hostile antics. Mix up the coal dust, choke on the spray lay down on my frown, no sound just the clown going round.

Okay. Now that I have limbered up my brain and followed the weird and wonderful clusters of words spilling out, here is my first attempt at a new event: The Halloween Circle.

Scat looked up. It was the middle of the night and all the stars twinkled like fairy lights in the blackened sky. He knew that it was time – time to join the Halloween circle. Only the shadows whispered about this special circle. No one knew who belonged to it or what the members did – only that it was a necessary rite of passage for any black cat worth his whiskers.

Leaping up the wall surrounding Arden White Elementary, he skirted past the silver birch trees shivering in the evening breeze. A light was shining in the playground. That was the meeting point. Without a sound, his soft paws landed on the bouncy asphalt and proceeded towards the year 6 class where Cecil, Thomas and Bertha has wreaked havoc earlier in the year during the Easter Sticky Competition. Even now, poor Mr Barns (the year 6 teacher) quivered at the thought of Easter and refused to teach the class if a child named Cecil was included in the collective. Scat smiled, showing his yellowed fangs. He did not agree with all the things that Cecil and his gang did but it was rather funny when Mr Barns sat on the whoopee cushion, sending him into a right tizz!

A figure leapt out of the shadows of the building. Scat nearly dropped his dinner in fright. Phew! It was only Babylock, the little Hair from Hairington.

“Hello Scat! I’m so happy to see you.”

Scat purred in response, trying not to get Babylock stuck in his fur.

“Are you ready to join the Circle?” Babylock asked, beckoning him forward towards the light in the centre of the playground. Scat could make out more figures dancing and waving around the flames that lit the area. The smell of smoke and marshmallows wafted towards him, making his tummy grumble. If only he had eaten all of his tea before starting his journey, he wouldn’t be so hungry. Instead, he had shared it with Bruiser, the big ginger cat from up the lane. He had started out as a bully, but once Scat got to know him, he found out that he was just a hungry kitty with bad owners who didn’t feed him properly.

Scat nodded at Babylock and made his way to an open space around the fire. Faces lit by the flickering flames smiled at him. He could see Emporer Pigtails ordering everyone into place, Miranda flicking her wild hair back as she danced past Cecil and his gang and of course, Ms Crow, who looked like she belonged in those whispering shadows.


To be continued…


Free Write -Salutations

Good morning. Such a simple thing to say and yet it can open up doors to new opportunities and friendships. Working on your smile as you deliver that greeting; not too much teeth and maybe a little less slur. Yup, got it just right. The receiver smiles back and responds accordingly. You are in the zone. If you were telephones you would be buzzing with excitement at the prospect of the open channels. What more do you need? A follow through? Maybe a brisk, “Fine morning this morning, isn’t it?” before the receiver walks off to continue the day. Oh no! Too many wordy words, morning – morning. What were you thinking? Can you take it back with a smile? No. It’s too late. You can see the connection fading with the brief but polite nod and smirk, those feet shuffling further away from you and the almost invisible hunch of the shoulders telling you to back off! Next time, just stick with the Good Morning and leave it there.

Free Writing – Day Four

Today, I need no trigger words. Continue reading

Free Write – Day Four

Trigger word supplied by my third sprog tonight: Curtains.

Sir Walter Raleigh’s poem called What is Life. The curtains close at our demise. The end. What is left once the curtains are drawn. Secrets and lies lurking in the folds, clutching at the seams and dragging their little scrawny legs as the curtains shift in the breeze of life. Hidden depths behind those crimson peepers, opening and closing like eyes blinking. A snapshot of the show, then it’s gone. What do we play behind the security of a closed stage? That moment of safety when we can become who we really are, without inhibition, because we know that it remains a secret. Exposure is a bright light pinning us to the spot, music shaping the mood and the air hinting at emotions. Heat and sweat for fear; coolness and a soothing breeze for calm. Waffle and bull goes on. I still prefer the poem.


Free Writing – Day three

Same as before, this serves as a warning that some content may be offensive or weird, or just downright awful to read. For those of you following this process, you’ll know I’m a day late and sounding a lot less enthusiastic. Well, it’s not so much the writing – it’s finding the time and energy to do it, which was part of the whole learning perspective!

So, I’m starting this one early to make up for last night’s lack of inspiration and I will do another this evening.

Here goes…

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Free Write – Day Two

It’s homework, so read it…or don’t – I don’t mind. Just don’t be offended by the contents which will not be edited or restricted as it is a mind exercise. Thus said, here it begins.

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Free Writing

As part of my course, I have to practise free-writing every day. Here is my first one for the week. I will not be editing these pieces, so please don’t be offended if you see something awry or offensive. I’m literally setting my mind free. Continue reading


Mind your language“…

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