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 (36/0)

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 Sarah5 months ago in Poets
Blackberries
Weeds spread freely in Liminal space. Sweet treasure Grows on the roadside.
By Beth Sarah6 months ago in Poets
A Matter of Perspective
From the top, the fields Become a patchwork blanket Of a thousand greens
By Beth Sarah7 months ago in Poets
Centrepiece
Jagged silhouettes; The crowning crust of Earth’s crest Against bright sunrise
By Beth Sarah7 months ago in Poets
Local Catastrophe
Powder on powder Thunders down: screaming avalanche. Then silence returns.
By Beth Sarah7 months ago in Poets
Everest
The ghosts of those passed Whisper through bellowing winds A subtle warning
By Beth Sarah7 months ago in Poets
Earth-god
Tow’ring monolith Kisses fondly the storm clouds That batter below
By Beth Sarah7 months ago in Poets
Maternitas
As she flew over the dry Southern plains, Nestor could see that the world below was healing. Slowly, but it was healing. It was clearer and cleaner every time she deigned to venture from the valley.
By Beth Sarah7 months ago in Fiction
So here we are
A prose poem. So here we are. Suspended in space time. Every word exchanged floating around us. Each tormented melody; swirling all together.
By Beth Sarah10 months ago in Poets
After the End
1. ‘Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.’ Admiral Bain lifted a patterned whiskey tumbler to his lips. Cubes of ice clinked against the glass as he lowered it again. The entire back wall of his large office in Symcel 1 was a window that looked out over the impossible endlessness of the universe. He swallowed and the bittersweet amber liquid burned his throat as he stared out at the distant stars pensively.
By Beth Sarah10 months ago in Fiction
Rabbithole
My eyes opened to the incessant and unforgiving glare of fluorescent lights; and the rough, irritating itch of blue polyester fabric, against which my face was lying. As consciousness drifted slowly through me, I realised that I was not where I should be - where I would expect to wake up – in my single bed in my severely overpriced studio flat in Brixton.
By Beth Sarah10 months ago in Fiction
After the Parade
The ground trembles. Rocks rise up from the earth – moist with rain and life - the brook collapses in on itself. Playful light, filled with mirth,
By Beth Sarah11 months ago in Poets