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Wendy Jones

 

An avid reader since discovering Enid Blyton as a young child. Has worked with many drama groups creating plays through improvisation.

Latest Drabble

All’s Well That Ends Well

She stood in the shadows, trying to calm her breathing. Heart pounding, palms clammy. She knew what to expect. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the light. He was waiting. "Where the hell have you been?' She flinched at the words and knew what to expect, moving backward with the blow. Every night it was the same – the ultimatums, the demands. To plead was useless, but the end was coming. A gun appeared in her hand – the trigger pulled. A muffled shot. Everything went dark. A shocked moment of silence, and then the theatre erupted into a standing ovation.

Nothing to see here.