Books

C. Attleya


The author C. Attleya lives in the garden of England where she writes her science fiction and fantasy novels. Her love for this beautiful county shines through in her A new beginning novels.
C. Attleya is notoriously unsociable, however if you would like to contact her, then she invites you to do so at cattleya@haszit.com.

Rumours that C. Attleya has moved to Newfoundland to write and find inspiration for the parallel The second choice novels, cannot be confirmed or denied at this moment.

Desk
Stack of pumpkins, Cliveden Image by M.S. Clements, @MSClementsbook

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt


‘I am sleeping.’ Nancy read the sign.
They’d all returned. Winston, George, Amy, … Even Christine and John. And she’d welcomed them with open arms. By day, the public amused them; by night, they partied.
Sleep? Indeed! No one ever slept at Cliveden.
Not even the pumpkins.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter 23 October 2019


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Giant babyhead sculpture, Barcelona Image by Jenny Moore, @JennyWriteMoore

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt


Fifteen years ago, her mother had wanted a big reveal.
Since then, the bullying had been relentless:
'Bald Ellie'; 'Big-head Ellie'; 'Pouting Ellie'.
Not much longer though. She’d found the tunnels, and
she’d dug for a year.
She had no knack for art, but she was a crack engineer.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter 16 October 2019


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Penman stabbed with pen, on magazine Image by Basia Wolf, @BasiaWolf

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt


‘The misuse of language induces evil in the soul’. Those were Socrates’s words, not hers, so it had basically been his idea.
The perfect words inducing the perfect crime; when he’d plunged the dagger into his heart, she’d been at the other side of the world.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter 15 May 2019


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Boy running in the surf Image by Mark Left, @ottobottle

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt


I run, my feet barely touching the surf.
If I’m fast enough, it can be undone.
We can go back.
I’ll be that little boy again, my sandcastle lost to the sea.
Spade and bucket in hand, you offer to restore my dream.
Together we build. And together we will live again.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter 25 April 2019


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Our Last Steps


As we nervously queue to enter our new worlds, I sway between excitement and fear. What do we actually know about our saviours?
  Only a few hours ago, it appeared in the sky. A golden belt surrounded our planet and,as it absorbed the sunlight, it resembled a giant donut, frying in the sky. While our world powers depleted the un-might of their defences on an untouchable enemy, the rest of us waited, watching the flares as they ricocheted between the glowing band and Earth’s atmosphere. When our world leaders finally ran out of ammunition, the ensuing silence, which preceded our first contact, was deafening.

  Screens around the world sprang back to life, as our new rulers made their address:
  “Dear Earthlings, there is no need for concern about your leaders’ violent welcome. We expected this reception and came prepared. We will not hold it against you as a species. The motivation of our visit is the incident of a powerful sun flare, which will imminently set your planet ablaze.
To save your kind,we decided to relocate all citizens of Earth.Designation of your new posts has been determined based on suitability, temperament and interests. Family units will remain intact. We are currently setting up portals for transportation, which will commence in five Earth minutes.
However, relocation is only available to those who were not allocated space in shelters. Any persons who were informed of this disaster and assigned a place in a shelter, should proceed to, and enter their place of safety as planned. We advise you not to exit until at least 8128 Earth days have past.
All other humans are invited to move to a new home in this Cosmos, in one of your five neighbouring Universes. Please, depart your residence and make your way to the nearest portal. Transport of other Earth species has already commenced.”

  It may sound disrespectful, and disrespectful is the last thing you’d want to be in the face of extra-terrestrial visitors who dropped in to save your bacon, but really, they look like donuts. Six-feet-tall golden hoops, shimmering with icing, inviting us to step through a tall circular portal.My better half, whose hand is clasped in a bruising grip which until today I didn’t realise I possessed, prefers to refer to them as halos. And I guess he’s right, we should reserve our disdain for our leaders and politicians, who appropriated a place of safety whilst leaving their loyal taxpayers out to fry.
  We are almost there now. Bluebell and Banjo, our cats, disappeared before we left our home, and the family in front of us said their goldfish, Sharkfin, vanished from his bowl during the broadcast. I see all four of them holding hands as they step through the giant donut, sorry, halo, set up at the corner of our street. It’s our turn. As we take our last steps on our birth planet, I catch a glimpse of our new home.
It is stunning.

by C. Attleya
Originally published at 'The 500' on March 2019

Winner

'The 500' March 2019 Challenge:
One donut to rule them all.
Donut and stars. Image by Haszit ltd.
Bowl filled with colourful powders for the Indian festival of Holi Image by Pushpinder Kaur, @pushpwrites

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt


When the world was plunged into gloom,
one creature evaded the curse; their colours lightning up the greys.
Taking no pleasure in other’s pain, they implored for the hex to be lifted.
For the sky to be blue again, they paid the price.
That’s why crows are now black as the night.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter 20 March 2019


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Letters: Access denied and % sign

Access denied


“Suggested modification to the algorithm will increase profits by 5%.
However, the amendment breaches this company’s code of ethics.
Terms of use prohibit age and gender discrimination.
The pricing model will not be adjusted, accordingly.
Access denied.
Recommended alternative: dismiss human management layer.”

by C. Attleya
Originally published in the March 2019 issue of Blink-Ink

 Letters: Robots and AI. Images by Haszit ltd.
The Gallery of Great Battles | Palace of Versailles Image by Vitor Pinto on Unsplash.
Palace of Versailles, The Gallery of Great Battles.

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt


A morsel here, a scrap there. The cleaner grumbled.
“Let them eat cake, in the restaurant.”
She threw a sandwich into a bin and felt herself whisked away,
back in time.
In front of a jeering crowd, Marie apologised,
“Pardon me, monsieur, I did not do it on purpose.”

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter on 6 February 2019


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Firepit on a cold winter evening in a northern village Image by Daniel Aubrey, @SpacemanDan13

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt

The Advent Calendar.


Fire and ice, the power of the Gods.
Clashing of swords, to proof a point.
No lives are lost, they are immortal.
If this is the way of the Gods.
Should we follow?
Lives will be lost, we are mortal.
The last man standing.
Victoriously.
Alone.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter on 14 December 2018


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Quercus

by C. Attleya

I was startled, but the intruder was harmless, only an acorn.
I held it like a baby and imagined its little heart beating rapidly, distressed by its adventure.
I nurtured it through the shortening days of autumn, and it grew taller.
Sounds invaded my home, as Carnelian started to babble.
Tears of joy filled my eyes when she uttered her first words: “You’ll be safe.”
She begged me to keep her secret, until she was ready to find her friends.
Days grew longer, and Carnelian grew stronger.
Carnelian kept her promise.
Today, human domination ceased, and the Quercusian age begins.”

Originally published as a 100-word Drabble,
on BookHippo.uk on 4 December 2018
Acorn Image by Pixabay
Cabin in the snow

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt

The Advent Calendar.


I know this place. I was born here.
My brother and I had a brilliant childhood.
Dad was so strong, and mum was lovely.
And there was so much food!
“Hey, mum. How are you?”
“What are you doing here? You’re grown up now.
Find a home of your own. And don’t touch that mouse.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter on 3 December 2018


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Ice Image by pxhere

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt

The Advent Calendar.


She imagined the perfection of Torvill and Dean, effortlessly swirling over the ice.
The rhythm of the Boléro filled her head, as she confidently rose to her feet.
Ouch!
Not as elegant as Torvill, just yet, but she had the grand finale nailed.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter on 2 December 2018


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Stone circle in Anundshög, Sweden. By Daniel Aubrey.

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt

I love this weekly challenge on Twitter.


One stone, one hundred years.
Five thousand years, we will rest, and then the ancient beast will break the seal.
On the first day of spring, of the two thousand and twentieth year.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter on 30 November 2018



Image by Daniel Aubrey, @SpacemanDan13

Anundshög is a burial mound near Västerås, in Västmanland, Sweden.
It is dated between the Bronze Age and the late Iron Age.


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Messy front garden. courtesy of the Virtual Writing Group. Image by Mike, @MikeEllison7

Virtual Writing Group Writing Prompt


Delightful!
The hydrangea hid her favourite reading spot, and the ivy
formed a perfect backdrop to the wildlife haven. The hedgehog’s den,
the frog’s little puddle-pond, the intricate spiders’ webs.
How could anyone fail to recognise the beauty of her tiny patch of nature?

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter on 6 November 2018


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Runner- up, CBCreative monthly challenge

I was runner up in the CBCreative monthly #WriteCBC challenge: Hiding.
Pretty chuffed with my self. Here's my entry:


This is what she hated most, breaks.
Tea breaks, lunch breaks, unfamiliar faces, groups of chatting strangers, noise everywhere.
She wondered how they did it, while she tried to hide in plain sight.
Was it too soon to go to the loo, again?
She wished she was invisible.

by C. Attleya
Originally published on Twitter on 1 November 2018
 CBCreative runner-up message.
Lateral Thinking Bicycle and car

Lateral Thinking

C. Attleya

Lizzy watched her brother ride a bicycle.
“Mummy, I want to ride a bicycle.”
“As soon as your legs are long enough to reach the pedals, my darling.”

Lizzy watched her daddy drive a car.
“Mummy, I want to drive a car.”
“As soon as your legs are long enough to reach the pedals, my darling.”

Lizzy watched her mummy fly a plane.
“Daddy, I want to go and fly a plane.”
“As soon as your legs are long enough to reach the pedals, my darling.”

She watched the plane take off.
“Where are Lizzy and those stilts, my darling?”

Originally published as a 100-word Drabble,
on BookHippo.uk on 28 September 2018

Images by Haszit ltd.
Lateral Thinking Plane and stilts
BookHippo.uk Drabblist