2013 Imagine, Write, Inspire Flash Fiction Competition. ‘Heartbroken’ by Siobhan Purchell Tierney

Good morning or is it a good one for you all so far?  Only o.k. for me as I didn’t sleep well last night. You know those kind of nights where you wake up several times and just can’t get back to sleep cos’ your mind is racing in 101 different directions?   Thank goodness for coffee! And great flash fiction stories to make me all excited and delighted to belong to such a talented world of fabulous seanchaithe.
 
seanchaí ([ˈʃan̪ˠəxiː] or [ʃan̪ˠəˈxiː] – plural: seanchaithe[ˈʃan̪ˠəxɪhɪ]) is a traditional Irish storyteller/historian. A commonly encountered English spelling of the Irish word is shanachie.
 
Don’t say I don’t teach you anything when I’m rambling away here.  I didn’t know the plural for seanchaí till this morning.  As my Daddy would say, every day is a school day.  
So as usual, to play catch up, you can click here :-
 
And please join in the hastag fun on twitter by talking about #imaginewriteinspire and the great stories you’ve read here.  The writers are all making the judges jobs difficult.  Tracy, Misja, Karl and myself will be in for a lot of deliberation!  
 
Chat soon, 
Carmel x
 
 
Heartbroken by Siobhan Purcell Tierney
 
She sank slowly to her knees beside the bed wondering how this could have happened. How one minute he was here beside her a loving living person and now a few days later he’s dead and buried. Tears streamed down her face as she remembered them lowering him down into the ground and she knew in that minute that she would never see him again. They had never had a family so all she had was the photos and the memories. Great wonderful amazing memories. She half smiled through the tears as she remembered his twinkling cheeky eyes, his infectious grin and his warm touch but then she realised she would never see those things again, never feel him and a fresh wave of grief overtook her body and she sobbed loudly.  She collapsed onto the bed her face down against the duvet allowing it to at least muffle her crying. Nothing had prepared her for losing him. Her instinct as always when she was upset was to call him to hear his voice and know that he would soothe her just as she did him in his dark moments. Her sobs grew louder as she realised that now all she would get if she called would be his voicemail. He would never answer his phone again. She lifted her head from the bed, desperation and loneliness filling her, she grabbed her phone and dialled into his voicemail, his warm tone and cheerful greeting soothed her and tore her heart asunder at the same time. She hung up and rang back over and over and over again. Finally exhausted she lay down, listened one last time and sobbed once more into the pillow. As she drifted off to sleep her heart started pounding, loudly in her ears like an alarm going off… Beep beep beep beep..

She awoke in panic, sweat poured from her every pore and her cheeks were moist with fallen tears.. Her heart raced as she remembered her dream. He was gone in the dream, heartbroken at his funeral, she had ended up turning round and round in circles trying to find him as only he could soothe the great pain that coursed through her and then she would stop and realize the pain was because he was gone. 
As she remembered the dream the tears flowed freely down her cheeks, what would she do she wonder when that day came.. How would she ever cope.. At the thought a pain welled up deep inside her and she took a huge breath in, one she couldn’t let go of. The thought of his death caused her to stop breathing, it caused unimaginable despair and a sadness she knew few would ever understand.. Stop she said crossly to herself.. Stop now and know for awhile more he is yours, he is here and you have time to love him, time to let him love you.. She let out the breath and her thoughts turned instead to his eyes, his gorgeous smile, his sexy swagger and the closeness they had shared for the longest time, he would scold her if she spoke about her dream, he would tell her that she needed to just enjoy their time together. Live for today, leave the past where it is and the future is always life’s bonus time.

 

Siobhan Purcell Tierney 41, mother of 4, started to write in her teens encouraged by an amazing english teacher in secondary school. She describes herself as an ideas woman with a highly over active imagination along with a brain that jumps from idea to idea at a ferocious rate! Siobhan loves to write about everything she experiences in life, in lots of forms, poetry, pieces about the topics of the day, stories for her younger children and some adult themed stories she hope they never get to read!

Up to recent years She had a lovely art shop and studio in Clare teaching drawing, clay and crafts to children of all ages and abilities, unfortunately high overheads meant it had to close so all her creativity at the moment goes into her writing. 
Anyone who knows her well reckon there’s definitely a couple of books waiting to be finished and of course that’s her dream. 
You can send her a tweet @siobhantierney and watch out for her upcoming blog that’s definitely on the way. 

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