Flash fiction attempt. C. J. Black.

Signs are for a purpose.
Here I am standing on the precipice.
Below me a quarry in full operation, it appeared as though they were miles below the surface moving like dinky toys.
This workforce scurrying much like spiders threading a web, as I edged closer to the entrance to get a better view point I could feel the earth move beneath my feet, taking a step back was not the best move I ever made. As swift as an archer with a bow and as direct I was gone over the side.
For a split second my life flashed before me, but it turned out the Gods were in my corner – this was my lucky day.
I awoke, the sun was setting in the sky, evening closing in, and my near death experience had gone unnoticed, thankfully as luck would have it the glare from the sun reflected off my watch alerting a passer by of my difficulty.
One moment I was alone, and then suddenly I was surrounded by members of the workforce. Some had stern words to say while others appeared to have a tear in their eye.
My own stupidity and being nosey nearly landed me in a concrete grave.

C. J. Black©β
22/05/2013 12:21:38
Flash Fiction.

From the scribblings of – C. J. Black.

The moment of impact.

Just as I was about to ask if the earth had moved for her – I heard this creaking sound.
Peering through strands of blonde hair I saw this large tree falling as if in slow motion.
Letting out a groan as in OMG – she looked at me smilingly and said – I never witnessed a groan like that before!!
Suddenly, it was upon us, but as luck would have it the car was parked in such a way the damage was to the rear end of the car which did not affect our getaway.
The photographer who took the photo blew our cover.

C. J. Black∁β
29/08/2013 20:26:26

From the scribblings of – C. J. Black.

All in a nights work. Flash Fiction. C. J. Black.
It was a nice quiet pleasant summers evening and as calm as could be expected in the confines of a hospital A & E department, but that was soon to change.
20.45 saw the arrival of an ambulance, the crew alighted and escorted their patient to the A & E reception desk. The person in question was well known to all staff members especially those at the Psychiatric Department, from his earlier visits.
As he was seated in a reserved area awaiting medical attention he was noted, as being quite ill at ease, security cameras had him under observation.
But as luck or ill luck would have it the attention of the security team was diverted by an incident in the vicinity of triage room.
While dealing with this situation, a member of the security team was alerted to a problem at the coffee shop in an area away from the A & E dept. by panic alarm activation, on reaching the area it was observed that this patient had got himself behind the service counter where Gemma & Eve, (not their real names) the two young staff members stood petrified.
As the officer in question had dealt with this individual before he was aware of the correct approach to take, taking the patient to one side they both sat and had a coffee and a brief chat, when the situation had calmed down, the officer left the patient to go and speak with both girls who were still in a state of shock.
After speaking with them for a few moments it became clear what the problem was, they informed him that the patient wanted to know if he presented them with his wife’s heart and liver would they do them in the microwave for him.
After making the appropriate phone call it was decided the two young ladies should be allowed off duty, they spent half an hour in the company of the hospital Chaplain before leaving for home.
The officer escorted a now calm patient back to the patient support room where they remained until the medical team accessed him.
While in the room the officer had to listen while the patient poured out his heart, he was telling how for the past few nights he could not sleep as each time he closed his eyes a vision of the devil would appear at the foot of his bed telling him if he went to sleep that he would die.
He proceeded to talk /ramble, saying that for breakfast that particular morning he had a joint, some pills, washed down by a large tumbler of whiskey – the officer thought to himself, He wonders then why he feels so depressed.
Finally, the time came for the patient to be assessed, it was while this was in progress that the police arrived, they had been alerted to an incident at a nearby neighbouring house of the patient, and on arrival made this grim discovery.
Two naked brutalised bodies lay on the kitchen floor, they would appear to have suffered a horrific death.
While back at the hospital the assessment continued, the psychiatric doctor, patient, and the security officer, oblivious to the fact of what was going on at the A & E reception desk.
It had taken what seemed an eternity but was really all of 20 minutes for a bed to be readied and medication prepared for the arrival of their patient to the psychiatric ward.
The police, after talks with the A & E consultant agreed to wait until the next day to question the patient, who they felt was really in no fit state to be interviewed by police or others for that matter.
Now that the Psychiatric department had been alerted to the fact that they may have a suspected killer on their hands the usual procedure had to be changed. The patient was ushered into the safe room where all actions could be monitored on camera by staff members.
Even though there was nothing to prove that their patient had anything to do with the death of what now turned out to be the bodies of two young married women, a policeman was detailed to sit by the secure room in the psychiatric department, questioning would take place in due course.
While back at the scene of the crime the investigation was under way.
Working through the uncommon quietness of the night, day break brought the sound of bird song, and the noise the extra volume of traffic made, as commuters made their way to work totally oblivious of what was going on behind the cordoned off area where the pathologist and other relevant bodies were carrying out their various duties.
Trying hard to establish some motive for this heinous crime, while others combed the area for the weapon or weapons that may have been used, or any clue that might lead them to discover the reason for such brutal killings.

C. J. Black∁β
28/08/2013 17:22:44
A wholly fictitious piece, any semblance of reality is just that. My attempt at a flash fiction piece warts and all, can be dissected, edited, added to or subtracted from by those interested, with more knowledge than I in this genre. I believe it’s called a collaboration?
Feel free in your comments to be as critical as you wish, otherwise I will never know whether I have done right or wrong. It’s a bad day that one does not learn something new. C. J. Black.

Not quite the last post. C. J. Black.

Wednesday the 8th of May was the day I got the call

I had a Humpty Dumpty moment decided to jump before the fall

I started out last October wondering, how long will this last

Here I am 146 posts on; thanks to you all I had a blast

I guess they call it burn out never knew what it really meant

But I’ve come to realise it now, I’ll take rest and be content

I will be keeping tabs on what’s happening in the world of scribes

But I’ll not be tempted back before my time so forget about the bribes!!

Who knows I may pop up just to keep myself in touch?

But between this and then I’ll not post very much

I’ll use my time wisely catching up on books I’ve left unread

Give the keyboard fingers a rest – take proper exercise instead

I may even try my hand at writing proper poetry

That’ll be the day says you – but stranger things have happened believe you me

So as I’m coming close to the end of this foolscap page

The final curtain is being drawn; it’s time to leave the stage

So thank you for being a friend and with your permission

In the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger I’ll be back, this is just the intermission.

C. J. Black©β

9th May 2013.




A World wide affliction? C. J. Black.

Sitting by an open fire with glass of wine in hand

Watching multi – coloured flickering flames, thinking this is a grand –

Way to spend an evening in total relaxation

While the world outside continues to suffer from so called starvation

You would imagine from news bulletins and reading newspaper headlines

That the world was going down the tubes if it didn’t meet certain deadlines

But then you switch on the evening news – watch them arrive like movie stars

These leaders of “bankrupt” countries, arriving in rather swanky cars

They are meeting at some palace, dining on sumptuous food

With never a thought of the lower class, how can they be so (c) rude?

Simple really when you think of it – its scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours

Pay them lip service pretend you care – they’ll lap it up the silly wh**es

Years of practice at lining those pockets made of silk

While all the time, all they think of is who else can we milk?

And then there are those in the building trade (not all)

Sitting in their ivory towers counting monies they have made –

Out of building ghost towns without planning permission or so the story goes

Leaving the poor innocent again with a lot more than a bloody nose

Then there are those in pin stripes – the untouchables it seems

Who will haunt us for our last few bob – shatter all our dreams?

Also there are the drug barons – dangerous games they continue to play

As they continue to covet their opponents patch – while innocent lives decay.

C.J. Black©β

8th May 2013

Considering a Sabbatical? C. J. Black.


A little voice cried inside my head

It really is time for a break

There really is no more to be said.

Make this promise to yourself, and then put this piece to bed

If you continue in this vain – your sanity is at stake

A little voice cried inside my head.

There is no point blaming yourself – it’s the processing which is dead

You will bounce back – the outlook is not all bleak

There really is no more to be said.

No point contemplating on it or filling your head with dread

When you do get your mojo back you’ll be on a winning streak

A little voice cried inside my head.

Until then take time out rest awhile instead

No one will cast blame or say he’s gone all meek

There is really no more to be said.

People would be foolish to think you you’d gone weak

I for one wouldn’t let something like that leak

There is really no more to be said

A little voice cried inside my head.

C. J. Black©β

7th May 2013.

I’m no Lawyer! C. J. Black.


Have you ever told a blatant lie this question was asked of me?

No but I’ve certainly circumnavigated the truth occasionally

I doubt there is a single person among the living or the dead

That has not told at least a white lie in something they’ve written or said

Which of us when asked to acknowledge that we have told a lie –

Will tell another just so that the questioner might pass us by

Bending the truth in order to get an advantage in life

Can only lead to causing you an accumulation of trouble and strife

I am a firm believer that the truth will always out

A lie will always cast a cloud, people will always cast doubt

Never be afraid of truth, always be up front

Shame the devil at all times, if you have to be – be blunt

People will admire you for this, this you must believe

Eventually you will be caught out if you continue to deceive

You will only get so far talking with forked tongue

No doubt finding yourself friendless before too long

Before I take my leave of you I have a confession to make

Perhaps you already know this – I’m not a poet I’m a fake

So if I should die before I wake I’ve got that off my chest

I can be interred in the knowledge I passed the lie detector test.

C. J. Black©β

6th May 2013.



Striving hard to succeed C. J. Black.

“Memory is the diary we all carry around with us” Oscar Wilde.

Striving hard to succeed

With my inner self I plead

Let me get words on a page

This will allow the reader engage

Then they may fully understand

That this poem has been truly planned

Not a figment of my imagination

But a concept built – yes a creation

Born out of a will to win

It started out a skeleton – this is its skin

I want it to be a success; I make no bones about it

A serious piece – not just a skit

Nerve racking it can be

Try I will until the nth degree

I will strive until I am satisfied

I’ll not give in, I’ll not be denied

It can be a lonely place my writing den

This has been said to me time and time again

But to me it is a place of rest

Once I step inside it’s as though I’m blessed

I get immediate inspiration

This dear friends, is my work station

There is a certain ritual which must be followed

This is my sanctuary into which no one is allowed

After I pull up my chair I don my thinking cap

Placing sentences I’ve written in what I call a word map

Checking them carefully until I find

Even one word which will kick start a thought

Never discard an idea thinking this will come to naught

Plant that seed, continue it to nourish

Your written work will, without a doubt flourish

Never entertain the thought this may read absurd

Fulfil your linguistic dreams word by perfect word.

C. J. Black©β

4th May 2013.




My other self C. J. Black.

I feel like I’m asphyxiating this isn’t very fair

Put in the effort or you will not be left up for air

I have a really hard task master of that there is no doubt

He has me locked inside this room – it’s a cellar, there’s no way out

The candle that he gave me is now down to a flicker

You can’t see the tears I’m shedding – I can’t go any quicker

He wants this poem finished and slipped underneath this door

There is no way out other than that – no one can hear my roar

I’ve been locked in here for days on end without a bite to eat

The fear within me at this present time – you could nearly hear my heart beat

It’s so hard to concentrate; my mind is in a mess

Does he care about me? Does he consider for one moment my stress?

It really does not bother him, he wants this task completed

He cares not a jot that at this time I feel totally defeated

But this candle is flickering and while I still have light

I’ll not let him defeat me I’ll continue to fight that fight

That demon inside my head will never get the better of me

I will complete this poem and keep my dignity.

C. J. Black©β

3rd May 2013.



Aiming for perfection – I’m always off target. C. J. Black

The life of a poet can be a lonely one

There is always a battle – a war to be won

From the recesses of the mind

You string words together to get out of a bind

Approaching each line with tentative ease

Hoping when you conclude there’ll be something there to please

I would never be that presumptuous as to think –

That what I write someone may say, his poems really stink

There is no accounting for how people will react

I must prefer honesty that is a fact

It is much easier to accept criticism which is direct

In the long run this has to have more effect

One can learn from people who are straight and forthright

Who are in no way afraid to offer an insight –

On how to improve your writing skill

Which you take on board and can’t wait until

You have a chance this skill to hone

Rewrite this poem without as much as a moan

It may take several attempts to bring it to an end

You can then be pleased with yourself and the poem you’ve penned

Once you give it wings and it has taken flight

It will either flourish or fade completely out of sight

This is something over which you have no control

This if the truth were known is better for you on the whole –

You have weaved your words, your tale you’ve spun

Yes the life of a poet is a lonely one.

C. J. Black

2nd May 2013.