Lost

His face was a mask, emotionless, as he laid the single crimson rose on the ground. If only he had acted sooner, but expressing his feelings was not something that came easily. Now she was gone, he would never know how it felt to hold her in his arms, the smell of her hair, her whispering breath. Only once his chance was lost had he realised how much he loved her, how much he needed her in his life, how empty he felt.

A single tear rolled down his cheek.

Writing prompt from http://creativewritingink.co.uk/writing-exercises/

Crimson balloon

“I should be happy. I should be enjoying this.” Harriet looked unhappily at Rick and then back at her friends. The first few weeks everything had been perfect, she had been so happy - her first boyfriend, her first taste of love. Every time she saw him she felt a massive balloon rising in her chest, threatening to pop at any moment. Now the crimson balloon was slowly deflating, sinking, shrinking - replaced with a strange, unsettling feeling. Everything had been a blur, now she noticed her best friends were tetchy with her, ignoring her and leaving her out of their conversations. Maybe she had neglected them, she had only just met Rick after all, and she had known Chrissy and Tanya for years. She used to tell them everything. When was the last time she had called one of them? Two, three weeks? This wasn’t her. This wasn’t the person she wanted to be.

But she looked back at Rick, he made her so happy, so content. He was completely unaware of the secret battle raging inside her. She watched as he wandered off the path, a new direction across the wide open field. He turned, glossy black falling round his shoulders, “You coming?”

Thank you for reading, comments and criticisms would be much appreciated!
Creative writing prompt from: http://creativewritingink.co.uk/writing-exercises/

Wings

This was going to be a short story, as I rarely ever write poems and I loved the image and had so may ideas! But I began writing and a poem came out, so I went with it. It only took ten minutes and I don't know if it's any good (or simply terrible!) so any comments would be appreciated.

How BEAUTIFUL the sky is today,

I wonder how the birds can sweep away,

So swiftly barely noticing,

The wonders all around them.

I marvel at their speed,

And wish I had their wings,

So I could fly and perch up high,

And survey the World.

But maybe there up high,

Whilst they fleetingly fly,

They are looking down at me,

And thinking I am just as FREE.

I am just a little boy,

I have arms but not wings,

But maybe if I wish and wish,

And WAIT.

I will have everything.

Creative writing prompt from: http://creativewritingink.co.uk/writing-exercises/

The Golden Bird

She did not remember this place, yet she knew where she was going. Her path already sewn across the barren earth, she wandered purposefully yet she barely knew why. The ground was hot and rugged, and the scarlet rucksack on her bag weighed heavy on her young shoulders. The air though, tasted of storms. Great clouds rumbled towards her as she reached the tree, its bare branches reaching for her as if to embrace her. Far up in its highest reaches nestled several small bundles of twigs, laboriously gathered and woven together by a careful soul. As she gazed up in wonder at the highest nest, her rain coloured eyes glowed, the golden light from within reflecting off them. As she watched the nest began to shiver, but the girl was not surprised, this was supposed to happen. This was why she was here. The small twigs began to unravel as the nest shuddered and the beautiful, gleaming egg began to roll slowly down. The girl worked quickly, she knew she had a little time before it would reach the ground but there was much to prepare. She took from her bag a small woven cloth, a wooden button and a safety pin. What could she do with this? There had to be something else. Her small face became peaceful, her eyes closed to the glinting light of the falling egg, trying to remember what she had never been taught. Before her stood a wizened old woman, she was smiling and in her palm was a tiny drop of liquid gold. The winking gold was shifting, flowing into a shape, a small bird, no bigger than a pearl. The woman turned, her back to the girl who calmly waited, when she turned back again the bird was gone, but in its place was a beautiful net of golden thread. The girl opened her eyes, she unlaced her left shoe and bought out the carefully folded net. She opened it and spread it over her open palm, just as the old lady had done, then she crossed her legs on the scorching ground under the tree and closed her eyes. Her face became peaceful once again and the edges of the net began to twitch, then float until they were hovering above the small upturned hand. Then she waited.

Creative writing prompt from: http://creativewritingink.co.uk/writing-exercises/
Thank you - if you've read this far! Comments would be very much appreciated