C. R. Drinkwater
Bio
An unserious writer who can’t finish a project.
Stories (16/0)
One Last Score
Another twinge in my spine; my knees lock on impact and I drop to the ground without hint of ceremony. I wince, thanking my lucky stars when I see Doreen is too busy shaking her wrists and fussing her hair to notice my state. Ahead, Robert and Mick force open the shutter doors.
By C. R. Drinkwater11 months ago in Fiction
A Small World of You and I
If walls could talk, I’d have told them they were never alone. It’s grown increasingly clear that they’ve made this meeting a habit and it’s with regret that I must make my confession; I've watched every moment of their romance with undivided attention.
By C. R. Drinkwaterabout a year ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in the Improbable Paradise Challenge
The Garden
The sun only just managed to break through the clouds. Small beams of light spiralled over blades of grass and the dewdrops turned them into a dance. Stretching tall in my wellington boots to tug on the handle, I swung the glass frame open and stepped through to the garden. My breaths were sharp, fanning in front of me, and I stopped to pull the tulle of my dress lower on my legs.
By C. R. Drinkwaterabout a year ago in Fiction
- Runner-Up in Reset Your Password Challenge
Coffee at OneRunner-Up in Reset Your Password Challenge
The little monitor light flickers. Again, again, again, like the rhythmic beat of Bon Iver which trips through your headphones. You’re tired, it’s late, and you can’t stop thinking about that email you’re fairly sure you forgot to send.
By C. R. Drinkwaterabout a year ago in Fiction
The Weightless Shard
WYLAN There weren't always dragons in the Valley. The beasts came suddenly one day in plights of brimstone and ash and took up residence in the overlooking mountains. That's where they remained for thousands of years. But, there hasn't been a reported sighting in almost a century now.
By C. R. Drinkwater2 years ago in Fiction
- Top Story - May 2022
One Afternoon in MayTop Story - May 2022
Hey Mum, Do you remember that time when we were walking down that grey-stone street in Huntingdon one afternoon in May, some seventeen years ago now? You’d let me choose my outfit that day. I was wearing my glittery pink trainers, fuzzy lavender bodywarmer, and tulle skirt over striped tights.
By C. R. Drinkwater2 years ago in Confessions