The Written Word Group

“How is that possible?” Ana-Maria’s eyes widened in surprise looking at a school-gathering photo, taken ten years ago.    “Another gathering is well overdue.” She told herself and began planning the second reunion.   She reached for her phone and phoned her best school friend she kept in touch with after she left her homeland.  “Hi Matilde, I was looking at some photos earlier of our school reunion. I'd like to organise another one in six months’ time, at the same place we used ten years ago.”  “Oh lord, is that how long it was? That's a brilliant idea. I can help you gather the contact addresses of most of our class mates, some have moved, you know?” “Oh, have they? Sure thing. And try to get their phone number too, if you can please. I'm a bit of a geek when it comes to social media platforms. I can set up a group on WhatsApp Group Chat and send the invite there as well. That way, we won't rely entirely on the post.”  “Yeah, I agree.” ...

  “Well Mr Sandhurst failure, what can we do for you.” The Colonel was lounging behind his desk, his lackey hovering in the corner waiting for a sign from his lord and master. To all intense and purposes, it reminded me of a scene from Blackadder, that twisted TV show from long ago. Which had given the British Army a good arse kicking. “I was told to report direct to you Sir,“ I said, all ramrod stiff and proper. “Of course you were, of course you were. You’re a fuck-up like all the rest of the scum in this Re-D Division. Why don't you resign like a good chap. It would make life a lot simpler.” “Have I new orders,” I said, just ignoring the expected tirade. Jonesy had been quite correct in what to expect. “He is a fucked over bitter bastard, and he will rip into you Sir.” I was lucky to have had a chat with Sergent Major John Jones before I was thrown to the wolves. “You see he is trapped in this here Re-D, and he knows he will never get out, unless something exce...

  Next Meeting: Friday 2nd October 2026 Location: Hostal Meson Time 10.30-1pm 500 word subject: “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” Everybody who has an interest in writing or the written word is welcome to our meetup at:  Hostal Meson Arboleas, Almeria, Spain.  Back Room.

  Bravo left the tow path via the eight stone steps laid back when Victoria was on the throne and looked up at the Railway Tavern a short walk up the narrow-terraced street. “Bravo to Central, Citrep, over”. “Central receiving. Go ahead Bravo”. “Bravo. Approaching target location, two minutes. One obstacle. Will neutralise and proceed, out”. The suited gorilla standing at the entrance to the pub watched as the hiker, complete with backpack and hikers pole approached. He moved in front of the door in an obvious attempt to prevent anyone entering. “Private party pal, no entry for…..” The weighted handle of the hikers pole struck him heavily on the forehead and he crumpled to the pavement in and untidy, bleeding heap. Bravo pushed open the door and scanned the interior. It was half full of male drinkers who, to a man, ceased their conversations and looked warily at the intruder. “Hi, sorry to be a pain but I’m desperate for a loo. Two minutes and I’ll be out of your way” he looked dir...

  "Morning mum, are we still going to the amusement park later?" "Of course, son. And we will get a ride on the Roller Coaster and an ice-cream after." Mauricio's excitement was short-lived. Minutes after getting his ice-cream he collapsed. Inés ran to him and froze to see his lifeless body on the floor. "Somebody call an ambulance!"  Weeks and countless tests later, Dr Hector delivered the diagnosis as leukaemia. And he needed a bone marrow transplant. Mauricio was born after years of Inés and Cesar trying to conceive, through an embryo transplant at a private clinic; the son she'd longed for so long. He grew close to his mother, distant from his father, and after the divorce Inés kept full custody. Her mother, Lisa, had been her pillar ever since.   Mauricio wasn't responding to treatment, and the side effects were mounting. Time was running out. He'd had a couple of fits, his heart weakening by the day. Without a donor, he ...

I wanted to hold her hand, to reach for it. Feelings of euphoria which had come after making her laugh in wood tech, the last lesson of the day, swiftly evaporated as we passed the roundabout on our way to smuggler's ditch. She'd gone quiet and a small gap formed as we walked, as if she was trying to put physical distance between us. I knew the reason, Timbo. It was only a few weeks since he'd "Houdineed," so there was anxiety around, especially at school, and I was annoyed about the attention she was giving him. Yeah me and him had been closer but I knew they shared classes and the way she pined over his absence was sending me mind to pessimistic places. No, she didn't like him like that, she couldn't... We skirted the ditch, heading for the steep bank called the muddies. I kept stealing glances, slyly admiring her body; sleek, black hair, soft clean skin, and big, white, perfectly straight teeth. She'd catch me every now and then and I remember think...

Next Meeting: Friday 11th September 2026 Location: Hostal Meson Time 10.30-1pm 500 word subject: “Damsel in Distress” Everybody who has an interest in writing or the written word is welcome to our meetup at:  Hostal Meson Arboleas, Almeria, Spain.  Back Room.

"She was a hero you know. It was kept secret from the public. She had to to go to the CIA Headquarters at Langley to get her medal. Pinned on her chest by the Vice President himself. Got a French medal as well she couldn’t show. Most people thought she was just a translator during the war. Little did they know our Damsel was a covert operator." "Damsel? That’s an unusual name for a girl."  "Is it? Never thought much over it it. The wife was the one that, wanted her named Damsel. After that Hollywood actor." "Hollywood actor? Which one? I can’t place that actor with that name." “Yea, a black actor, was in some crazy Vampire movies. Went to prison for Tax evasion.” “You mean Blade, Wesley Snipes. She was named after Wesley Snipes? "No, not him, must be the other action Equalizer guy." “Oh Denzel Washington, you mean Denzel Washington." Yea, him, Damsel Washington. The wife loved him. Saw all his movies. Action her...

 https://www.juntadeandalucia.es/organismos/ema/areas/incendios-forestales/prevencion/interfase/normas-autoproteccion.html ****This isn't meant as a substitute for following the instructions of the emergency services during an incident.**** This guidance is issued by the **Regional Government of Andalusia (Junta de Andalucía)** for properties located in the **Wildland–Urban Interface (WUI)**—areas where homes are situated close to forests, woodland, or scrubland. It is intended to reduce the likelihood of homes igniting from radiant heat or wind-blown embers during a wildfire. PREVENTATIVE MEASURES FOR RESIDENTIAL DEVELOPMENTS. * Construct and maintain a firebreak around the development that is free of shrubs and tall grass, with a minimum width of **15 metres**. Trees may be retained, provided they are sparsely distributed and their canopies do not touch each other. * Remove vegetation and dry plant debris from all undeveloped areas, including abandoned plots, roadsides, and gulli...