Clare Smith
Bio
I have always written and read a lot since an early age. I was a member of a writers workshop at school and wrote loads of poetry. Now I concentrate more on short stories and my novel in progress.
Stories (7/0)
Discovering who I am
I was a nurse. The role I had longed to be in was a weight around my neck, I was told constantly I needed to do better and prove my worth. At the time I was in outpatients, not the role I had ever wanted to do. It was the same old grind day in and day out, the doctors and consultants had to be waited on hand and foot. Bringing them tea and biscuits through a full waiting area only to have a witty patient cry out "where's mine...I had lost count how many times that was thrown at me.
By Clare Smith8 months ago in Chapters
The ghost of winter
The Ghost of winter The brittle ground shimmered with a sprinkling of light frost. Jacob could see his breath given ghostly life in the frigid air and then disappear. He grunted slightly at the sharp pain in his knee as he took a step. The cold weather no longer agreed with Jacob, it made every movement painful, made his arthritis flare into sharp life and his breath wheeze in his throat. He was determined not to let the winter beat him, he continued with his weekly routine of walking the mile to the post office to collect his pension from the local Post Office. He settled into a steady but slightly stuttering walking rhythm, he leaned heavily on his stick and his mind began to wander. As always it wandered into the past, to happier more contented times…
By Clare Smith3 years ago in Humans
Lady of the lake
The lady of the lake She smiled and stretched out below the surface, the waving weeds caressed her body as they lapped in time with the water movement. The lakes legend, old Scarface the pike swam past her face the predators gaze arrogant. She laughed as she tickled him beneath his gills and the fish opened its mouth; showing razor sharp teeth as it wriggled in ecstacy. She glanced at the dark lines of his war wounds, he was a brave one; this one was a fighter.
By Clare Smith3 years ago in Futurism
The Road killers
“Just relax and be yourself” said the sexy female voice from behind the lights, “Now….Action.” The short grey-skinned creature with the pointed features and deep- set black eyes shifted nervously on the tall stool. He straightened his high-vis vest and looked into the circular all-seeing eye of the camera. “Erm….I’m Spry, as you see I am the supervisor of the Transport network on the B493”, he held the lapel of the vest out to the camera so the insignia was clearly visible. “It’s a dirty job but someone has to do it, eh?” he grinned, showing sharp dirty yellow teeth. “You see we are a very underrated and unappreciated workforce. Those guys that work on planes, causing all those crashes, well everyone wants to be one of them. But I tell you, in reality mostly their tampering doesn’t work. The mortals they have all these checks and servicing regularly now. But all you get to hear about is all the high yield work. Bloody snobs all of ‘em”,he coughed briefly and spat out a globbet of phlegm on the floor. He then blushed, his cheeks touched with a mild green colour, “Sorry Miss, we don’t see many ladies round here, ‘scuse the manners.”
By Clare Smith3 years ago in Horror
