Bella Basura in Performance

Come and see me at the Speakout Festival 2017.

I will be performing at The 6 Bells on the 11th February, it looks like a great lineup, with contributions from Heather McVey, and Miss Mercal amongst others.

No automatic alt text available.

Looks like some pretty experienced performers on the Sunday too, Mark McGivern and Fay Roberts are worth seeing!

There are acts on at venues all over Cambridge during the weekend. Get full details on the Speakout Festival page on facebook.

 

New Flash Fiction Story

Here is a new Flash Fiction, that I performed for the first time at the recent Scarecrow Corner Benefit at The Devonshire Arms a week or so ago.

Although it’s longer than my usual offerings, you must agree it is still pretty short!

Fairies Down The Plughole

I’ve only had head lice once. I think I caught them on a group walking holiday in Wales.
One afternoon towards the end  of the week, I chaperoned a lovely little 8 year old called Annie. Her mum, too tired,  or busy, or divorce-damaged, or desperate to wash her hair, pressganged me into taking Annie with me on a four hour guided ramble in the rugged North Wales mountains, around the stunning Cadar Idris, throne of Uther. A folkloric landscape of the poet, the madman, the dead man who are said to gather on the Idris summit in the dawn’s pale gloom. A mythic and magical and harsh place of legend.

It could have been an arduous trek, but I had the delightful company of Annie to smooth the day along. Annie loved fairies, Annie saw fairies everywhere, “look, fairy doors” she would say stopping at almost every tree stump, every cleft in the tangled woodland tree roots. Annie paused at every Oak, Ash and Thorn, paid homage to every bee, butterfly and dragonfly we saw “Look! Fairies” she would say.

And at the end of the long day she granted me fairies of my own. In a gesture of blessing She drew her fingers across her cherubic dark curls, she placed her hands onto the crown of my head and dipped our heads together until our foreheads touched, we paused and stared into each others eyes. “now you have fairies too” She said.

Later, around the campfire, Annie tucked up safe in her sleeping bag, I chatted with Annie’s Mum. I said “She’s a one for the fairies” Mum laughed, “yes, it’s fairies this and fairies that, she sees them everywhere, ‘look fairies’ she says, all the time. Even when I’m using the headlice shampoo, she’s like ‘Mummy, Look! Fairies’ and I say yes honey, wash them down the plughole”

Bella Basura
December 2016

More Flash Fictions

Archive

Psychogeography

Jean Dark

Strawberry Fair Scarecrow Corner

Brand new Flash fiction

 

Yesterday Evening I had a wonderful time performing with a stunning music and spoken word lineup at Scarecrow Corner Winter Warmer. Here is a new 100 word Flash Fiction I wrote for the event.

Horny Goat Fairy of Strawberry Fair by Tim Neate 2016

Horny Goat Fairy
of Strawberry Fair
by Tim Neate 2016

Ding Dong

This week being christmas week they had a competition at my work, there was a prize for the best Christmas carol sung over the public address system. So I had a go. Sang them my favourite carol, although I not sure I got the words right.
I went :

“Dum dum didi didi dumb
Didi dum dum dum dum dumb

I am an antichrist
I am an anarchist
I wanna destroy passers by

Cause I
Wanna be
Anarchy
Wanna be
Anarchy

And I
Wanna be
Anarchy
No dogs body
Anarchy for the UK”

And then they switched the bloody speakers off!

Bella Basura December 2016

Links
More Flash Fictions

Archive

Psychogeography

Jean Dark

Strawberry Fair Scarecrow Corner

The Bardic Picnic

Contemplating reading at the Bardic Picnic next month has resulted in this weeks dinky little flash fiction.

Carved bone. Indonesia 2013. Donated by S. Beings

Carved bone. Indonesia 2013. Donated by S. Beings

Stone High

“Actually I don’t think that’s Lapiz” Said Flower-Moon to Ann, as she fished the blue bracelet out of the display case.
A proper Petromancer, Ann thought. One of those new-age Fairy-Witches that divine the future through the flinging of gemstones.
“No, it’s Sodalite. Put it back, it doesn’t resonate in the same way”. Ann put the bracelet back, and followed Flower-Moon.
Petropath! Thought Ann as Flower-Moon dowsed the incense franchise.
A low-down god-forsaken alt.med hustler – a-healin’ the sick by the layin’ on o’stones.
Watching Flower-Moon trance out in the Nepalese imports, Ann visualised a tea-break.

Bella Basura
July 2016

Back to Flash Fiction

To the Skull Collection

Short Monologues and Plays

Do What Pirates Do 

A Gratuitous Cat Photo Bella Basura 2016

A Gratuitous Cat Photo
Bella Basura
2016

“Yohoho and a bottle of grog, me hearties” Enunciated Jonny Depp in pure mid-Atlantic Mockney, arguably the worst pirate accent in Hollywood. Amber rolled her eyes, inwardly.

He stood, elaborately piratical with black eye-liner, leather tricorn hat and sailor tattoos. His eyes gleamed intensely beneath his kiss-me-quick seaside rasta wig, he twirled his waxed moustache.

“Shiver me timbers, mi’lud, don’t send me down to the stripey hole. For I am a Pirate of the Cariby-anne and must do what Pirates do – robbery on the high seas, rape pillage cattle rustling and the smuggling of small domestic dogs into ecologically-sensitive Antipodean Continents.

Amber held up her hand. “You need to take this seriously, Jonny. Please just read the statement they wrote for us”

Jonny throws his cutlass to the floor in a fit of pique and reads the apology in a contemptuous sing-song voice “Australia is a wonderful blahblah Island with a blahblah treasure trove of unique plants, animals and blahblah…”

Bella Basura
July 2016

Written specially for the Cambridge Storytellers nautically themed Story Round.
Hosted by Marion Leeper – The First Bard of Cambridge.

The Short Answer, Again

Turn The Page
By Bella Basura

Golden Vagueness - Bella Basura 2016

Golden Vagueness
Bella Basura 2016

Unspeakable beauty, like the floating harmonic deep in keening tinnitus. Words break free, and my sentence struggles away from me, my grasp slipping a grip, like a  hand slipping  a glove. She tears from my skin and flies. Ricocheting my awareness of “I” into a bounding and rebounding silence. A silent creeping vibration, like the tap-tap tapping of a solitary black widow on her dew-luminous web, alone at night. A fly has slipped it’s shackles and fled. A silent creeping vibration of voidness, null, empty and zero.
The one that got away.

More Flash Fiction – The Short Answer a collection of short stories in 100 words.

Soon to be available in chapbook print version.
email:witchysticler@gmail.com for more details.

Bella’s Gallery.
 About Bella Basura
chronological archive

Short Tale Shrew

Last month the short fiction  magazine Short Tale Shrew awarded this flash fiction an Honourable Mention and published it on their website.

Film Night At The Rebirth Convention
by Bella Basura.

The Delegates gathered, waiting for the ‘Samsara in Cinema’ event.
Ouspensky sat broodingly alone, contemplating Ivan Osokin.
A few rows behind him The Gautama and The Christ boisterously contrasted resurrection and soul-migration.
In a hot-tub, left of the screen, naked therapists  breath-worked their birth-traumas.
Classically reincarnated deities – Mithras, Persephone, Taliesin, Vishnu, Baldur –  sat rapt as the houselights dimmed.
The crowded auditorium hushed as the diminutive figure of the Dalai Lama edged onto the stage. “My favourite film” He said simply.
And the screen sprang into life, illuminating the film’s title “Groundhog Day”.

Soul Migration

Soul Migration – A self-portrait

More Flash Fiction

About Bella Basura

Archive

The Short Answer – a collection short stories in 100 words

bookshelf.jpg

A Poet In The Book Closet

“Take it” said the beautiful woman with the cherubic smile, leaning across the bare wood table, holding out a black ballpoint pen.
I barely knew where to look.
The musty, book-lined library backroom gloom seemed too perfect, paranoia perfect.
“Take it” she said smiling with radiant beneficence.
“And this” she pushed a wiro-bound notebook towards me.
I hesitated. Panic words unleashed into my head.
I’m silently rapping on honeytrap words, glancing at her, but keeping calm.
“Take them” She urged “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with us”
Her hand gesture drew in the whole room
“We’re all poets here”

More Flash Fiction – The Short Answer a collection of short stories in 100 words.

About Bella Basura

Bella Basura
chronological archive

 

Bella’s new 100-word micro fiction

The Mansplainer
In the sociable, jostling crush of the after-party he felt, once again, that overwhelming urge to pontificate. He glanced out, across the room, seeking an audience.
He thanked his lucky stars that he was taller than most and could easily scan the room without straining his neck. Biological advantages were such a blessing.
His morbid gaze fell on a likely acolyte. At the sight of the pink lace, ruffling around a navel-plunging neckline, his exploding mansplaining gland spurred him into action.
“That one” He said to himself “Doesn’t have a penis”.
And he honed in on her, fulminating fluids a-flowing.

More flash fiction here

Flash Fiction Honourable Mention

The results of the Short Tale Shrew Spring Micro-Fiction competition was announced today. The remit was to write a 100 word story on the theme of Rebirth, the winning entry was In Microcosm by Matt Wyles. Read it here

Although my story – Film Night At The Rebirth Convention – didn’t win, I was given an “Honourable Mention” and had my story printed on the Short Tale Shrew website. (You can find it if you keep scrolling down from the winning entry.)

 

Here is my 100 word response to my (nearly) winning story, it’s called…

Gizza’ Job

Last Rose by Bella Basura 2016

Last Rose
by Bella Basura 2016

…ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred!

Exactly one hundred English words  – remit met, mission accomplished.

A mere smear of short story, a literature in miniature, a fleeting of fiction.

I am giddy in my 100 word hubris – I dream fame for my flash-fiction, imagine professional success, a regular column in a weekend national, a steady income for writing. Sold out fold out, international filler, syndicated, vindicated, a meme beaming out virally into an endless network of recognition,
a cyber celeb,
and known in print, media-whore, desperate.

I think I’ll approach Short Tale Shrew  in exactly 100 words.

See what they think.

 

Other Flash Fiction

My Image Gallery