I’m new at this game and i love it when i discover a new and exciting blog to follow. I first came across dustandlove.com when i read @adadcalledspen’s hilarious entry to his short story competition. You can read it here or enter yourself here…..although you only have a few hours left, soz.
Anyway i’m not a writer but i enjoy writing and it’s one of the reasons i started this blog. A reason to start writing regularly and competitions like this are a great way to brush up. So without further ado, here is my rather rushed and very amateurish entry…….
Her eyes flicked again to the red digits displayed on the alarm clock.
She should get rid of the clock. Stupid, bloody, bollocking insomnia.
She sighed ridiculously loudly but the heavy body next to her continued to sleep. How could you lie next to someone and feel so totally alone.
There was no point in sleeping now anyway. She’d be woken up in an hour or so by her daughter Rose. She had expected the sleep deprivation that came with being a parent but seriously this was getting ridiculous.
It wasn’t even being woken up that mattered.
It was the long dark hours lying awake unable to drift off because all you could think about was being woken up.
It was the maddening way you couldn’t stop calculating the hours of sleep you would get if you fell asleep at that moment. And then watching the numbers go down.
Fuckity fuck. She pulled back the duvet and made her way down the hallway, pausing outside Rose’s room. The panic rose in her chest. It was getting late now, it was not like her.
Lying in the dark once more she heard a murmur. A key turned in the lock, a heel hit the tiles, a stumble and a giggle. Rose. Relief flooded through her veins.
19 years and still the anxiety remains.
Her body began to float, to sink into the mattress and all of a sudden enjoy the warmth and familiarity of her bed. Memories of parties, drinking, boys came flooding back; her parents always trusting her to make her own calls.
A single word rested on her lips as she finally drifted off to sleep.