Lesley Anne Armour
Bio
Writing is satisfying and cathartic. I enjoy sharing my thoughts & ideas in poetry or prose. I enjoy taking photographs mainly of nature and my cat Maise! Reading and a walk along a beach bring me pleasure. And I love to dance.
Stories (14/0)
Winter Is Coming
The last of the golden leaves had fallen. The sun cruelly shone golden, piercing Mari’s eyes with no warmth to penetrate her fleece layers as she hiked up to her cottage on the hill. Blinded she shielded her eyes with her worn fleece sleeve as she turned the key in the lock. The air within her home burned her face with a chilly sting so she hurriedly slammed the door and pulled matches from her pocket. She always enjoyed the making of her fire and it was not long before the room became warm. Having once been a farmer’s croft, Mari’s home was small and snug with low ceilings and thick sturdy walls. “Bijoux” her sister would have sarcastically said, and likened it to a hovel but for Mari it was haven. She enjoyed solitude.
By Lesley Anne Armour5 years ago in Humans
Runaway
Agent 9 wakens to the sharp, blue ocean that is Mimi’s unblinking eyes and the rolling wave of vibrating sound designed by nature to hypnotise. Trance like, Agent 9 lifts herself out of bed to the sound of a joyful meow and the pad of determined feet as she makes her way to the kitchen. While preparing breakfast she thinks about how much she loves Mimi, her only companion and her only family. An affiliation diligently constructed to protect herself and the life that she has chosen.
By Lesley Anne Armour5 years ago in Petlife
The Cost
Jane still felt like the new starter after six months in her job. Her lack of experience was telling when she began her work practice. Jane had spent her twenties cleaning various hotel bedrooms around her region always moving on to find better work conditions. Now approaching her forties Jane had through a bereavement, undertaken voluntary work in the Samaritan organisation to give back to them, a thank you, for their support when she was grieving. After which she went to college to study to become a trained counsellor.
By Lesley Anne Armour6 years ago in Psyche
A Kind of Friendship
This is my story of a teenage friendship that only took place on the way to school. Unlikely really given it was thirty minutes a day at the most and it was between the beautiful girl and the plain Jane. Like fish and cake a weird concept to put together yet surprisingly it worked.
By Lesley Anne Armour6 years ago in Motivation
Social Media Vs. Mental Health
It was just a feeling, not even a thought that I was aware of. Just a feeling that started to physically determine itself in long nights that attacked my ability to sleep and relax. With each turn of my shoulder, each smarting, blink of my eyes, and a little less sleep one thought would be followed by another and then another until my head was full of uncontrollable pictures of the past and of the future.
By Lesley Anne Armour6 years ago in Psyche
The Turning Stair
High on giggles, little legs scrambled up the smoothed castle steps, his six-year-old ears refusing to hear my entreaty as I climb behind and his sandals clatter away ahead around the turning stair. Dust and summer sun flicker beyond my eye as I reach for the safety of cool stone, worn smooth by medieval hand and grasping tourist touch.
By Lesley Anne Armour6 years ago in Families
Embers
There was a stillness to the day; a calm that contrasted to the busy city flow of traffic and people bustling for warmth and comfort. Ice crystals winked in the air just in front of her nose and pierced her cheeks like tiny winter daggers, gleeful in their winter cold. Looking up at the sky and its depth of untainted blue she found herself gazing breathless and in that second loosing her concentration she felt her feet slipping on unforgiving ice. Earnestly adjusting her balance on unsteady feet, her equilibrium soon regained. Her mind converged with her body.
By Lesley Anne Armour6 years ago in Motivation
Empowering Through Education
My first experience of assault—and I mean by that a smack on the backside—was in the late 1980s. This man creeped me out so much that I would jump in the wardrobe to hide (I was working as a chambermaid) if I heard him coming down the hotel corridor, because if he caught me in the room, he would sit on the bed and try to get me to sit with him and verbally proposition me, heavy breathing added for effect.
By Lesley Anne Armour6 years ago in Viva