Beth Sarah

Joined June 2021

0 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 (41/0)

Ulysses
It usually takes me a day or so to read an average-length novel. This one took eight months. Sometimes it feels like reading in a different language but the layers of meaning behind endlessly visceral scenes seep through like early morning sunlight.
By Beth Sarah4 months ago in Critique
High Fidelity
I have never read this before, or seen the 2000 movie adaptation. Not a horrible read, featuring perhaps a slightly too believable narrative voice.
By Beth Sarah4 months ago in Critique
Top Story - August 2023
Failed distractionsTop Story - August 2023
Darling, in your absence the time in my life Is a void - a black empty space in which I am struggling to see the promise That may be hiding in the darkness.
By Beth Sarah6 months ago in Poets
Distraction
Drink! Imbibe! Succumb to one more Tipple rather than taking any Responsibility or Acknowledging how Crappy things are.
By Beth Sarah6 months ago in Poets
Top Story - June 2023
Morning TheftTop Story - June 2023
The impatient June sun has been breaking through the curtains earlier each morning. 5:10. My heart wrenches with a suffocating, syrupy ache as I am drawn into the conscious realization of my new reality.
By Beth Sarah6 months ago in Fiction
In Search of Lost Time
Consciousness comes upon me like I’m being dragged out of a tar pit. My mouth is dry. As I open my eyes, a judgemental glare of sunlight that permeates a gap in the curtains pierces my retinas. I close them immediately and jolt at the sound of a clang, then metal rolling on wood where my hand has scraped across the table beside the bed. A little thud on the carpet. Reticently, I open my eyes again to see what it was. Ah - just the copper coin I had engraved for Kate three months ago as a gift for our seventh wedding anniversary.
By Beth Sarah7 months ago in Fiction
Subversive Sandman’s Sad Story
Sunday. Subversive Sandman sits scathing; sips spiced Scotch. Smokes. Stands. Seeks scrapbook’s scrawls: souvenirs showing salacious sins.
By Beth Sarah8 months ago in Poets
Playing Cat and Mouse in the House of Mirrors
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. I was so caught up in that moment that I did not quite recognise this at first, and by the time I did it was far too late.
By Beth Sarah9 months ago in Fiction
An artist discussing his painting with an acquaintance at the exhibition.
“Every night at midnight, 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 Sarah9 months 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 Sarah9 months ago in Poets
Somewhere beyond our perception
In the vast ether Time distorts and unfurls, laughs In cosmic dances
By Beth Sarah9 months 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 Sarah9 months ago in Poets