Beth Sarah

Joined June 2021

57 stories

Bio

We've been scribbled in the margins of a story that is patently absurd

Achievements (1)

Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge

Stories (57)

Filter by community

Sort by (Optional)

An artist discussing his painting with an acquaintance at the exhibition.
“Every night, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. The smell of smoke filled the air permanently and the faint clamour of machinery buzzed softly and enduringly in the background of life like a drone.
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Fiction
Peer Pressure
There was a daft man called Adam Who knew less than what he could fathom He was pretty naïve Just loved fucking Eve So he bit it and said, "Cheers Madame!"
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Poets
Somewhere beyond our perception
In the vast ether Time distorts and unfurls, laughs In cosmic dances
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Poets
Visiting relatives on a Sunday afternoon after church
Grandfather clock stands Proudly observing each Generation play Tick tock tick tock tick Clunk clunk clunk. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Poets
The first whisper of Spring
Warm sunshine after A long winter. Moment to Savour like sweet wine
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Poets
Chaos Theory
Scars faded with time But subtle imprints remain; Still they whisper
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Poets
Another Bloodmoon
Steady moon, toys with Tides that push and pull all life: The cycle goes on
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Poets
Exit through the giftshop
If walls could talk we would have an awful lot to say, particularly walls that have stood firm as long as I have. As it is, we cannot, and thus we remain silent witnesses to the endless occurrences that take place within our bounds.
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Fiction
Lifecycle
The first breath Catelyn took felt different – the first real breath; the first one on the outside. It was laboured; harsh and heavy and bitter. By comparison, breathing inside was light and easy. She wished to return immediately.
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Fiction
Dear sister
Dear sister, I dreamt last night of your old Ford Fiesta. Silver. Back in the days when we had no responsibilities And we cruised around bowling alleys
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Poets
Blackberries
Weeds spread freely in Liminal space. Sweet treasure Grows on the roadside.
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Poets
A Matter of Perspective
From the top, the fields Become a patchwork blanket Of a thousand greens
By Beth Sarah3 years ago in Poets