What do you see # 3 – Safety


Image: Painting by Jim Warren

Jim’s story was compelling

He had me in the first sentence.

It was an adventure like no other

I loved his characters

They transported me to a world I’d not known.

There was a magical element

I felt entranced

I wanted the horses to survive

Even though the odds were against them

I rode with them

Urging them to safety.

Then the strangest thing

I saw them in my mind

Galloping towards me

Kicking huge plumes of water

They saw me as a safe place

I couldn’t put the book down

The water splashes over me,

I didn’t notice my bed

My doona was now liquid

I sensed a nuzzling at my foot

They were safe

They stood at the end of my bed

My bed was wet,

Surely, I was dreaming?


Written for: https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2019/11/11/what-do-you-see-3/

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Reena’s Exploration Challenge #112 – Pockets of Stillness


Image: Google Images


pockets of stillness


I’m walking o work

The humdrum of the morning

Invades my senses

There is no escape,

Cars, the trains, planes overhead

How do I crave some silence?

Around me is endless chatter

Friends, catching up

Acquaintances offering polite conversation

There is no time for complacency.

I turn into my office

I close the door, locking out the din

And I sit within my very own pocket of stillness.



Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2019/11/07/reenas-exploration-challenge-112/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #53 – Crisp meets the Pirates.


“Do you think they are safe?” My aged companion Crisp asked as we surveyed the boats moored ready for our day’s adventure.

“I’m sure they are,” I replied, “we are only going along the canal, so there won’t be too much to worry about.”

So, we set off drifting along the canal with a slight wind behind us. Crisp sat at the back, hanging on grimly to the sides of the boat.

I was as surprised as she was when we were confronted by pirates. They quickly took over our boat and threatened to do ‘unspeakable’ things to Crisp. Interestingly their arrival sparked Crisp up, and she rose to the occasion suggesting she would deal a deathly blow herself should any ‘funny business’ be going on.

Crisp as I have come to understand can be a formidable woman when the situation arises.

The pirates took their leave, apologizing for their behaviour, and sailed off in search of more compliant victims.


Written for: https://crispinakemp.com/2019/11/13/crimsons-creative-challenge-53/

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Photo Challenge # 289 – Twin Tits


Image: Jonas Peterson

The folks living on Twin Tits were a funny mob.

On one side were the Howes, (to the left of the photo) and to the right lived the Wherefores.

The Howes were a multi-generational family having taken up residence during the colonial days. They farmed the land in pretty much traditional ways.

They grew crops on the lower land and used the higher pastures for grazing cattle.

The Wherefores had arrived some fifty years ago at a time when a rural recession had forced the Howes to give up part of their land in order to survive. The Howes were not happy to give up their land for as their great grandfather had said: “We have suckled on the Tits all these years and we are grateful for the nourishment and life they have provided us. We have always protected and honoured the very bosom of our existence.”

The Howes were very reluctant to admit another family to Twin Tits and watched aghast at times as the Wherefores brought with them strange and confusing habits.

The Wherefores had migrated from Europe and introduced a lot of what the Howes considered foreign stuff. They spoke another language, they dressed differently and they ate the weirdest of foods. On top of that their farming practices were at odds with what the Howes thought was the way to go.

They introduced new livestock, Llamas, for one, odd-looking beasts with long necks and shaggy coats. Where the Howes bred cattle, the Wherefores stocked their paddocks not only with Llamas but also goats.

The Howes were not impressed. They saw their rural community as being devalued and made their feelings known to the Wherefores who simply shrugged and said it was how they farmed in their homeland.

There developed a standoff, each family suspicious of the other. Old man Howe spread rumours about the Wherefores, said they were devil worshippers and that they tortured their children which in itself was a bit of a stretch considering most people had known for years that the Howes had a few unsavoury practices of their own involving children.

As time went on, Twin Tits became a place of conflict and mistrust. The two families created so many stories about the other that the truth and fiction blended into each other, and it was hard to tell what was true and what was not.

Each year though they would come together at the Twin Tits fair where they competed against each other. Each brought their finest produce and stock and stood side by side as the judges determined whose pumpkins and or cabbages would take out the blue ribbon.

Whatever the result, the families would shake hands and congratulate the winner but secretly cursing each other and vowing to better them the next year.

As I said, the folks of Twin Tits were a funny mob.


Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/11/12/photo-challenge-289/

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Sunday Writing Prompt “Interrogation”

Car Accident

“Come on Knuckles stop beating around the bush, you did it, you know you did it, we all know you did it.”

“It wasn’t me. I was at home in bed with a beautiful woman.”

“Come on Knuckles don’t try that old gag on me, we know you did it and anyway what beautiful woman would be interested in an ugly old bastard like you?”

“You’d be surprised. A lot of women find me attractive.”

“Yeah, they must be blind if you ask me.”

“She gorgeous and loves me for who I am.”

“She misguided if you ask me.”

“Well, I’m not asking you. So can I go home now?”

“Not a chance Knuckles, we caught you red-handed.”

“It wasn’t me, I tell you.”

“It was you, Constable Stable identified you.”

“Then he’s wrong.”

“Stable is never wrong, it’s one of his irritating habits. He’s always right.”

“Well, this time he’s wrong. I told you I wasn’t there.”

“Knuckles he saw you, he fingered you for the crime now fess up and let me get out of here. I too have a beautiful wife and want to get home to her.”

“You guys got it all wrong. You get a call about a crime, and straight away you figure it has to be Knuckles O’Reilly but let me tell you there’s a lot of guys out there who look like me.”

“Knuckles there is only one guy who looks like you, and I’m looking at him. If there were other guys out there who looked like you, it would be a sorry state we would be living in.”

“Are you sayin’ I’m ugly?”

“Knuckles it a fact that when looks were being handed out, you were hiding behind the door.”

“You really know how to hurt a guy, don’t you.”

“Let’s face it knuckles, you robbed the Ace Convenience store at seven-fifteen tonight. You took six packets of cigarettes, two all-day suckers and a box of matches. We even found the stuff on you when we arrested you.”

“I had a receipt for all that.”

“You did not, what you showed us was a receipt from last week and that was from Woolworths. Let’s face it Knuckles we got you well and truly.”

“I’m still saying it was a case of mistaken identity.”

“We got CCTV of you in the store holding a fake gun to the store manager.”

“I was just fooling around, and he gave me stuff.”

“It’s a not win for you Knuckles. What do you say, we wrap this up, lock you up, and then I can go home.”

“All right, you got me. I did it. Can I go now?”

“Lock him up and Constable Stable? Good job.”


Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/11/10/sunday-writing-prompt-interrogation/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #52 – Crisp’s Field of Dreams


“The Field of Dreams,” said Crisp my aged companion as we sat at breakfast. “Mary Mixingbowl, medieval witch, set up the field for young lovers. How quaint.”

She put down the brochure and looked into the distance, which was nothing more than the other side of the B&B dining room.

“I had dreams once,” she said, “it involved a handsome man called Ivor Been. I doted on his every word, and before long he was all I thought about. Then he moved on and became Ivor Gone.”

“How old were you then?”

“Oh, just a teenager, love was new and exciting, I thought he’d notice me but, he ran off and married Madge Sponger, the poor sod, she turned out to be a real handful.”

Crisp was silent for a moment, before announcing, the Field of Dreams would be our day out.

“It’s never too late to dream,” she said.



Written for: https://crispinakemp.com/2019/11/06/crimsons-creative-challenge-52/

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Tale Weaver #248 – At the Bottom of the Garden – 7th November


There wasn’t much happening at the bottom of the garden. It was a normal day with normal things happening.

The insects were doing what they do best, being insects and the fairies, long-time residents were doing what they did best, staying out of sight and being as big a nuisance as they could to every creature around them.

The fairies thought they had it pretty good. The garden creatures, for the most part, tolerated the fairies but there was always the threat that if the fairies pushed them too far, something terrible might happen.

The fairies were well aware of this as legend had it the fairy known as Gumblebum had his wings torn off by a moth he was irritating. Being a Bogong Moth, he was considerably larger than your run of the mill moth and so when threated as he felt he was by Gumblebum he took action.

Needless to say, Grumblebum was never the same again.

Today though, being middle of the week, it was all very hum drum. Rufus Grizzleguts had just landed on a pond leaf and was sunning himself as he complained about the heat, the reflection and the annoying frogs in the pond.

Just as he was settling into a good healthy grizzle, a long and sticky tongue wrapped itself around his middle. Within seconds he was being dragged yelling and screaming towards a large blue tongue in need of a good feed and Rufus looked just the morsel he desired.

The goanna had some very razor-sharp teeth, and Rufus didn’t like his chances and protested loudly.

The blue tongue unaccustomed to protests of any kind stopped his sucking in of his dinner and looked with an air of curiosity at the squirming Rufus.

“You can’t do this,” stated Rufus, “everyone knows we fairies are not a tasty treat as you might surmise. So, let me go if you know what is good for you.”

The blue tongue stopped and let the sensors on his tongue decide if Rufus was going to be all the grief he was suggesting he might be. There was a taste that left the blue tongue wanting to dip his mouth into the lava pools on the other side of the garden, and the taste only intensified the longer he held onto Rufus.

The next thing Rufus knew was he was being propelled into the pond. He came up spluttering for if there was one thing Rufus disliked it was the pond. “Do you know what the frogs do in here?” he screamed at the disappearing blue tongue.

Clambering out, he grabbed a leaf and dried himself off. Now he had plenty to grizzle about, and he made sure every creature at the bottom of the garden heard his every complaint.



Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/11/07/tale-weaver-248-at-the-bottom-of-the-garden-7th-november/


Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , | 14 Comments