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Helen Sinclair

Helen Sinclair

working stiff by day, producer of procrastination and occasional prose by night. Feedback is always welcome.

27
Writings
22
Followers
40
Following
Helen Sinclair

Helen Sinclair

working stiff by day, producer of procrastination and occasional prose by night. Feedback is always welcome.

27
Writings
22
Followers
40
Following
Rocking horse.

Helen Sinclair

1 min read

Flaming hair

Pounding hooves

Legs flayed

Eyes white rolling

Always winning


The main event.

The starred stallion.

Ridden, cheered and triumphant

as gleeful children holler.

All smiles.


…


Falling mane

Chipped nails

A knocked knee

Flaky cornea

Always dusty


The biggest problem.

That bloody horse.

Hidden, derided and side-eyed

as adults wonder when

It’s time....

Rumour Has It.

Helen Sinclair

2 min read

“Is she wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”


“Oh my god, yes! She went home with David you know…”


“No way. That's the third bloke now she's been with.”


“They're saying he just dropped her home, but who takes over an hour for a twenty-minute trip?”


“I know right? Isn't she married?”


“Yep. Two kids.”


“David’s married too. His wife put him on probation from last year’s do when he got off wit...

1
3
Merry Deathmas.

Helen Sinclair

1 min read

Hello, I'm Death.

The Dark Santa with a sack

full of bones.

Little demons for elves,

Rudolph’s got a black nose.


When I come down your chimney

It's more, well, an attack.

Heart brain or liver?

It's my choice which will crack.


My presents are wrapped

In pain, suffering and grief.

There's tears before bedtime

And then the release.


Here is my list

All checked twice.

Who is good, bad or ugly

Nau...

2
4
Unique Message Family Ties

Helen Sinclair

1 min read

The theme is that actual family isn't always its cracked up to be. With a side helping of being content with what you have - a much needed reminder for those people living in a fast paced influencer online world....

10 Plot Points Family Ties

Helen Sinclair

1 min read

Jenna misses her family at Christmas time


Jim comes round and tells her of bad rating from his Uber driver


Jenna goes to work Xmas party & comes home and books ancestry test


Ancestry test arrives and neighbour brings package round and mentions delivery guy amongst other things


Jenna gets ancestry email results with family ties


Jenna decided to meet with one of the people against Jim’s wishe...

Family Ties (working title, Blurb)

Helen Sinclair

1 min read

When Jenna decides to discover her ancestry she unearths a sinister past which becomes her present.


Jenna Walker has a ‘default setting’ life and she’s happy with it. A small apartment on the outskirts of a large town in central England, a 9-5 job, a handful of close friends and a boyfriend, Jim, who she imagines marrying one day.


One Christmas, Jenna and Jim gift each other ancestry tests with...

1
The Revelation

Helen Sinclair

1 min read

Ta-da!

What's that?

It's a rabbit in a hat.

How the hell’s it survive?

Oh shit, it just died.


Knock, knock.

Who's there

is it somebody who cares?

If you count murder clowns!

(I need new friends now).


Hey you!

Who me?

My favourite human being.

That's sweet! I feel the same.

Hold hands, let's run away....

Poetry

1
6
The Watching Man.

Helen Sinclair

1 min read

To blink was to miss the chance to spot the ‘watching man’. Her eyes were dry from being open so wide; searching the darkness for a misplaced shadow, an imperceptible movement or change of texture. This new permanent state of intense concentration had cramped up her shoulders, knotted her neck and forced her jaw tight shut. He tongue glued to the top of her mouth.


Her breath stayed shallow and si...

3
3
Little Brother’s Big Splash

Helen Sinclair

1 min read

I didn’t mean to push my little brother into the big fish tank. Well maybe a bit. He is ‘such a good swimmer’. Not so good at scaling glass walls before sharks though, apparently…...

1
Sand Party Monster.

Helen Sinclair

2 min read

When you’re hosting a party in the desert you’re either the enfant terrible of an exiled oligarch or Colonel Gaddafi. Angela was a little from column A and a little too much from column B.


“Jared! The sand!” she shrieked at the waiting staff, who sweated under the millions of tiny bulbs replacing the heat of the setting sun, “It’s on the dance floor again.”


A waiter, presumably Jared, in a full ...

4
2