2013 Imagine, Write, Inspire Flash Fiction Competition. ‘The Island.’ by Sadhbh Devlin

Good morning everyone.  We are up and ready to go already in the H household.  Sun screen is already liberally applied to the squirming little H’s in preparation for this promised heat wave today!  We are all set for a morning in the garden with Tanya – she of After The Final Chapters, book reviewer extraordinaire, who is stopping by for a catch up.  I know she has been really busy reading books for Penguin and Poolbeg so I’ll looking forward to all the inside tips from her on what to read this summer. She’s a tough old job doesn’t she? 🙂

I’ve been busy myself and yesterday got started on Book 3.  I’ve had two very different stories that were fighting to be told and I wasn’t sure which would be the one I would actually write first, but a victor has been named.  It feels so good to be writing a novel again and I’m excited to get back to the novel this afternoon when the children are in playschool.

And now I can hardly believe it but it’s the penultimate day for entries to our competition.  And then the fun begins for Misja, Tracey, Karl and myself.

If you have missed any of the entries, you can play catch up here.


Today’s entry is wonderfully descriptive and I know you will enjoy.  Sadhbh has told me that she wears many hats every day, well I think that her writers hat sits very comfortably on her head and she should get used to wearing it.  Enjoy everyone.

Carmel x

The Island by Sadhbh  Devlin

She sat down abruptly in the long grass. For a while all she could hear was the thump of blood in her veins and the steady whisper of her slightly laboured breathing. The hike to the forest clearing had been steep and she wasn’t as fit as she had once been.

Presently, those bodily sounds quietened and she ceased to notice them. For, high above her, the wind rushed through the trees. A lofty sea of green. To the west she could hear the quiet sigh of the motorway. It also sounded like the sea. To the east, waves truly did crash upon the shore and she remembered how this place had always reminded her of a verdant island, cut off from everything, where she could be deliciously alone, surrounded by a green, grey, blue ocean.

Her shoulders relaxed and she absent mindedly stretched her fingers out in the tangled grass, feeling the gritty texture of the sun-warmed earth beneath. The sudden thap-flap of a woodpigeon moving through the branches nearby drew her attention to the sounds of a host of small sweet birds all around her. A sweet racket of chirrups and trills floated on the soft breeze

A flash of red caught her eye, and she spied a curious Robin, perched, not three feet away, black-bead eye trained on her, head cocked slightly to one side. A dim memory surfaced something she had been told as a child or perhaps read once, a long time ago. Something about never baring one’s teeth, even in smiling, at little wild things, because it would likely be interpreted as a threat. She didn’t want to startle the tiny bird so she smiled slowly, lips closed, and tried to radiate the message with her whole being, that she meant him no harm.

The robin hopped forward, still eying her warily. She held her breath, willing it to come closer, but it just looked skyward, stretched its wings and flew away. She didn’t blame it, she was flying away herself today. She released her breath and inhaled deeply again, filling her lungs with the heavy scent of woodland wildflowers. Cow Parsley, Wild Garlic and Bluebells. The dusk was falling and the white curve of a fingernail moon appeared in the sky. The breeze dropped and her island grew quiet. Lonely even.

A sigh escaped her lips. It was time to leave. They would be waiting for her, She had already stayed out too long, waiting to feel the earth hold still long enough for her to catch her breath. Waiting to feel connected again, to her wild self, before heading back to the rush and tumult of her life. She closed her eyes and held herself as still as possible for one final moment. One breath more in this sacred space.

She fancied she could hear their musical voices calling out over the swirling ocean. She could picture them clearly in her minds eye. Their pink mouths. Their shining faces. All bright eyes, small noses and apple cheeks. She saw their mouths calling “Mama!, Mama!”, little white teeth behind rose-coloured lips. Careless tangles in golden hair. Those bright eyes glinting with the light of life.

“Yes, she uttered aloud, readying herself to stand “it is time to set sail for home”.

Sadhbh Devlin  has always been told she has a head for hats. This may be true, but in fact she only owns two actual hats, both woolen and shapeless. She does however, wear many metaphorical hats. She is mama to twin toddler girls, wife to a very tall husband, a full time employee in an Irish language organisation, a greeting card designer and small business owner,  a photo snapper, a writer of words in tiny, secret notebooks, a crafter and an obsessive tryer of new things. She writes about most of these lovely hats at www.wherewishescomefrom.blogspot.com

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