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Saturday, 15 November 2014

Caravan - A Novel from Cumbria



At the start of 2014, New Writing Cumbria put a call out for writers across the County to be involved in a novel with a difference. It is a collaboration where each writer had 72 hours to write their chapter. It's finished, it's entertaining and each chapter is set in a part of Cumbria that you may be quite familiar with. The novel Caravan can be downloaded for free. I wrote a chapter and enjoyed the challenge of not knowing what I was to be presented with by the previous writers and twisting the story... so here it is, enjoy

http://www.newwritingcumbria.org.uk/caravan/



Nisha P Postlethwaite is author of 'The First Sense' fiction eBook based in the Lake District and Cumbria, available from several online retailers. To find out more visit www.nppostlethwaite.com

On twitter I'm  @nppostlethwaite

Please don't forget to like The First Sense on Facebook 

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

The Chat - a short story by Nisha P Postlethwaite




‘Time scares me,’ said the woman to her cat. ‘I’m losing the people I love, and I’m only twenty-eight.’

The cat raised his head from his deep sleep on the bed and slowly blinked at the woman with his sea-green eyes. 

The woman blinked back at him. ‘Life frightens me,’ she said. ‘What would you do if you were in my situation? I know you’re a cat, but you seem to have it sorted.’

The cat glanced at the bedroom window; the breeze had dislodged several leaves from the tree tops and they gently danced in the sky.

The woman followed the cat’s gaze to the window. ‘You’d go out, wouldn’t you?’ Her voice sounded panicked. ‘Out there into that world?’ 

The cat turned his head and licked his coat with his spiky pink tongue.

‘Yes,’ she surmised, ‘You’d go out and face the day - face life again, and take it all in your stride and you wouldn't look back.’ The cat stretched his paws right out in front of him and one grazed the woman’s knee.

‘It's not that easy - I wish I was as calm as you,’ she said. ‘Instead I’m a stupid scaredy-cat. I am terrified of my own shadow, I'm terrified of living – I'm terrified of what could happen, and of losing it all again.’

The cat rolled onto his back and showed off his strip-striped belly; he placed his paws in the air and exposing his multi-coloured toes. They looked like pink and black coffee beans. The woman stroked his furry belly and said to the cat, ‘You’re telling me to relax and to stop over-thinking things.’ She sighed to herself.

The cat rolled onto his side and stared right at her.

‘I know you’re right,’ said the woman. ‘You’re always right. I need to enjoy the present moment and stop worrying about the future.’

The cat shut his eyes and went back to sleep. He hadn't said anything at all.


 Nisha P Postlethwaite is author of 'The First Sense' fiction eBook based in the Lake District and Cumbria, available from several online retailers. To find out more visit www.nppostlethwaite.com


On twitter I'm  @nppostlethwaite

Please don't forget to like The First Sense on Facebook 

Sunday, 15 June 2014

Twin – a short story by Nisha P Postlethwaite



They were two halves of one, yet neither knew what their other one thought. Nourished by a single disc down separate lines they floated side-by-side, rolling like synchronised swimmers in their mother’s skin.

Soon the day came to be expelled from the flesh hold. As cords were cut, each Twin reached for the other’s hand - not just for comfort - but to protest against the world.

As the Twins grew, they were inseparable and indistinguishable. They finished each other’s sentences, mirrored expressions, paired tantrums, laughed in sync and matched accidents. The Twins flourished in a secret place with invisible doors and were an impermeable enigma. 

Soon came school, and as cruel as children can be, they finally infiltrated the Twinship by pitting the Twins against each other. Soon each Twin came to measure their achievements and failings against their Twin and jealously took hold.  

In their teens the Twins tore each other down in private; in public they ridiculed each other. Each Twin wanted to be known as their own, but only better than their Twin. Mistrust and bitterness rotted down the Twinship - the damage irreparable.

By the time the Twins were adults, they lived a continent apart, both were desperately unhappy, their lives incomplete, grieving one another but too ashamed to reach out.

You can waste away a life wanting what someone else has got, and sometimes what they actually have is nothing.

Nisha P Postlethwaite is author of 'The First Sense' fiction eBook based in the Lake District and Cumbria, available from several online retailers. To find out more visit www.nppostlethwaite.com

On twitter I'm  @nppostlethwaite

Please don't forget to like The First Sense on Facebook 

Saturday, 24 May 2014

The Suitcase - a Short Story


There was a room in her house with a large oak door. The door had a key that she rarely turned. Behind the door was a suitcase that she never unpacked. The suitcase was scuffed and had seen much better days.

There was a pair of trousers in the suitcase she could not pull past her knees. In the trouser pocket was a torn cinema ticket from their very first date. That date blew into a whirlwind and blossomed into love. That love aged and declined into forgotten fervour.

There was a silver frame in the suitcase, tarnished with time. In the frame was a photo of a vivacious young woman. The woman smiled with her eyes and laughed from the heart. She was bare of responsibility and wore invincible youth

There was a large brown envelope in the suitcase that she had sealed with a lick. The envelope contained letters written before people forgot how to write. The words on the letters captured every feeling there was. Those feelings were forgotten as everyone left.

There was a well-worn jumper in the suitcase she had knitted herself. The jumper still smelled of his skin - safe, reliable, familiar. Many a time she found those traits irritating, but if she could turn back time, she would take it all back.

There was a journal in the suitcase bursting with thought. She wrote in that journal her ideas and expectations. Yet the future passed her and she was standing still. It was only then she realised that time did not wait.  

In her house was a suitcase that she never unpacked. It was a relic that reminded her of everything lost. One day she decided the room was too good to waste with old baggage. So she took out the suitcase and put it out with the waste.

Nisha P Postlethwaite is author of 'The First Sense' fiction eBook based in the Lake District and Cumbria, available from several online retailers. To find out more visit www.nppostlethwaite.com

On twitter I'm  @nppostlethwaite

Please don't forget to like The First Sense on Facebook