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| Copyright © Mark R Kelly 2025 |
Elusive and mercurial, it has the texture of a dream barely
remembered, and can weigh heavier on your heart than anything
imaginable.
In turns, it can lift and crush. Move you to song—or
tears.
Never found when sought, yet like the wolf hunting its prey in a snow-covered forest, it tracks you down mercilessly when you least expect it, and when you’re least prepared.
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| Copyright © Mark R Kelly 2025 |
~ The Book ~
"If you want it, reach out and take it," the vicar ripped open his shirt, glistening sweat caught in shafts of half-light cutting through the smoky gloom. His hands trembled, breath wavering as a scream, desperate for freedom, clawed at the back of his throat.
The dark mass hovered over the bodies of his family, tiny wet tearing sounds punctuating the bloated silence. Two fiery orbs eased through the shapeless mass of darkness and smoke, fixing on him.
"Is it this you fear?" The vicar ripped off his dog collar, letting it fall to the floor.
The fiery orbs briefly followed the falling collar, then snapped
up, ensnaring the man of God in their burning, hungry stare.
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| Copyright © Mark R Kelly 2025 |
This is how I see myself – and I’m sure many others see themselves this way too, though not aware of it. To clarify, at work people see me: my colleagues and the patients. Difficult to miss.
But here is the plain truth – they do not see the true me. They see what I allow; the rest I guard jealously and protectively, something I have nurtured and honed since my early days of junior school. In later life, working in various aspects of security only added more layers to the unseen armour I wear.
As for work colleagues, and by extension, those close enough to be considered friends, they see me with two sets of eyes – one set sees what I want them to see, and the other sees what they want to see: the superimposed personality they presume I am.
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| Copyright © Mark R Kelly 2025 |
I sat on the leather-bound sofa, my instincts screaming to move, to evade and vacate. I didn't answer immediately, but instead returned the gaze and held it. "Not yet," was my answer.
A grin split the black guy's face immediately, white teeth flashing. The sound he made as he laughed put me in mind of a cross between an asthmatic and a hissing snake. Apparently my reply satisfied him, as he began rolling himself a spliff behind the kitchen breakfast bar of his open-plan apartment.
Every so often, he'd look at me from under his brows, eyes locking on me each time. He'd giggle quietly, with a slight shake of his head. My companion stood with his back to us both, babbling on about nothing in particular, making mugs of tea on the far side of the kitchen. Quietly observing it became apparent my companion was familiar with the place - his hands knew exactly where everything was, and not once did he ask the owner how to find the milk, sugar, tea or mugs. Clearly both men had a comfortable rapport - supplier and user.
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| Copyright © Mark R Kelly 2025 |
The platform of choice was Fracturedlit, and part of that process was roughly a three month waiting period in order to find out if your submission had made the cut or not.
Well, I can say right now, as of December 15th 2025, my submission did not make the cut. As gutted as I am, I shouldn't be surprised. The wealth of writing talent out there in the big, wide world is phenomenal. I'm just not one of them.
Onwards and upwards. I have a second, longer piece in the pipeline for submission. This time the piece is dark fantasy, something I wrote back in 2011. Now comes the task of scouring the right platforms with which to aim my story at.
I know this isn't a very exciting post, and I apologise, but I had to bring October 20th's post to conclusion.
Now for something musical.
I leave you with my 'happy song', by The Mavericks - "Dance The Night Away".
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| Copyright © Mark R Kelly 2025 |
I'll hold my hands up and admit, it's my fault. Not much of a planner, as the majority of what I write flies straight off the top of my head, pumped out by my imagination.
Already I'm aware I have wires crossed regarding certain plot tags, locations and character traits. And that's the 'kicking' I'm receiving. Basically, I'm being taught a valuable lesson in the writing process as a whole. It's as if I've been trying to scratch my nose with my elbow, and someone ambles up, takes my hand and places it to my nose.
Duh.
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| Copyright © Mark R Kelly 2025 |
Because of that (and after a bit of thought, coffee, and mild overthinking), the blog will soon be changing its name to:
The Last Hearth and Haven
The change is planned for 24th December 2025.
When it happens, to return to the blog you will need to use the follow change of address (URL):
thelasthearthandhaven.blogspot.com
Plenty will stay the same — why fix what isn't broken.
The writing will remain personal and curious. There will still be exploration, humour, and the odd raised eyebrow. Music outros will still set the mood for your listening pleasure, and my unique visual thumbnails will continue to do their own distinctive thing. This isn’t a retreat into slippers and silence — it’s simply a better name for what this place has already become.
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| Copyright © Mark R Kelly 2025 |
So you now have the opportunity to request your favourite blog post topic - it could be anecdotal, fitness, online gaming, poetry, film, short story... the choice is yours by request.
Should no request be forthcoming, then I'll go with my gut and post something dredged up from the depths of my mind.
That's it for tonight, all that's left for me to do is drop in a musical selection for your listening pleasure.
Here's a classic song by Sam & Dave - "Soul Man" (Extended Remix). Enjoy.