Poem: Storm Clouds

I see you
deeper in the darkness
searching for a doorway
afraid to face the formless
silhouettes outside

The ghostly veil
your shattered soul, pursued
by those bitter winds, fragile
wings fractured by the storm
clouds circling above

Turn around
and knock
on the open door, step inside
no need to speak, just sit
by the open fire, a little solace
from that long black road

A silent hand
a secret
place to lay your head
somewhere to hide
and wait
until the storm clouds pass

© Natalie Mansfield


Poem: Where I Belong

Wandering through the night

Silence grows deeper

Darkness obscures, and I can pretend

The wolves are sheep.


Sunlight brings the shadows

Chases daydreams away

Shows the prizes out of reach

Exposed in their cage.


I retreat, back into the night

I am lost, but not alone

I walk with monsters

Here, where I belong.

© Natalie Mansfield

100-Word Story: A Quiet Ending

A Quiet Ending

The sound of dripping water filled the whole building, every drip amplified by the silence outside.

Droplets of water glided slowly through the air, eventually splattering in the growing puddle on the floor.

Dirty water rolled into the cracks between the floor tiles, soaking through the rotten wood below and dripping into the space underneath the building.

A brown rat looked up just in time to see a droplet of the dirty water splash on to his face. The water seeped into his skin, infecting his tiny body with a virus that no human would live long enough to identify.

© Natalie Mansfield

Previously published on The Drabble

75-Word Story: That Thing

That Thing

That thing, when you wake up in the middle of the night, and see a shadow that shouldn’t be there.

You blink your eyes, and then it’s gone. Just your mind playing tricks again.

But you know, deep down, there are no tricks.

He’s still there, hiding in the other shadows. Watching your every move.

You sense him lurking in the darkness. You can almost hear him breathing.

He’s waiting for you to fall asleep.

© Natalie Mansfield

Previously published on Paragraph Planet

100-Word Story: The Guy That’s Made Of Ghost

The Guy That’s Made of Ghost

We shared a taxi once, you and I. Your kindness reminded me to breathe. I see you now, walking past my window; your skin so grey, clinging to your cheekbones like the last traces of flesh on a decaying skull.

I watch as you mouth silent words, imaginary conversations with people only you can see. I watch as you laugh at jokes that no one else hears. And I can’t help but wonder if there was ever a moment, all those years ago, when I could’ve still reached you. A moment before you became the guy that’s made of ghost.

© Natalie Mansfield

Previously published on The Drabble