FFfAW Challenge-Week of May 23, 2017 – A Day at the Seaside

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Image: Louise at ‘The Storyteller’s Abode’.

We had a lovely time at the seaside. Mum and dad, little brother Will and older sister Sarah.

Mum and dad had packed a picnic.

My brother, sister and I went to the water’s edge. Dipping in our toes we squealed at how cold it was.

Around us, seagulls flew here and there, forever savaging leftovers or chips thrown to them by other seaside goers. There were boats on the water bobbing about as boats do, all under a sun that sparkled on the water. Mum called to us to put on our sunscreen as we had the sort of complexions the sun loved to cook.

As we stood before mum, patiently having the screen applied, we noticed mum’s eyes grow wider. We turned as the grey shadow in the water came close to the shore, grabbed a boy in the shallows and disappeared into the depths.

Everyone was numbed by the event. As if nothing had happened the water returned to its peaceful self.

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/05/22/fffaw-challenge-week-of-may-23-2017/

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100 Word Wednesday: Week 20 – Queue*

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Photo By Bikurgurl

The queue stretched further than we anticipated but as we stood at the end of the line we were immediately infused with the excitement of those ahead of us.

We had all the band’s albums and had played them endlessly as we travelled to the venue.

Within minutes more people walked past to the back of the line and I felt a bit sorry the late comers might miss the opening songs if the line didn’t move a bit faster.

As I thought this the lights went out. My ears rang. People cried. No, I thought, not to me.

  • Like so many around the world, I have been moved by the senseless atrocity in Manchester. Despite the appalling loss of life, I have been encouraged by the reports of acts of kindness and compassion shown by people from all walks of life. This alone gives me reason to believe in the innate goodness of people.

Written for: https://bikurgurl.com/2017/05/24/100-word-wednesday-week-20/

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Twittering Tales #3 – 23 May 2017

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His last day was Thursday. He never liked Thursdays.
Pension day was weirdo day.
Odd people and odd kids.
He prayed they stayed home.

Written for: https://katmyrman.com/2017/05/22/twittering-tales-3-23-may-2017/

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Photo Challenge #166 – A Mother’s Sorrow

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Image: Copyright NEKNEERAJ

She’d agreed to take the children home for after some hours at the hospital they were tired and bored and starting to act up.

She left her son and her daughter’s family there huddled around her bed, whispering occasionally to one another as if their voices might cause the daughter some discomfort.

She had gone to see her daughter after so many years of estrangement and was shocked at what she saw.

Before her lay an old woman, hooked up to various machines, feeding and keeping her alive.

She’d fallen apart at the sight of a daughter who was once such a beautiful child, a daughter she had, to replace the one stolen from her.

She reflected on her daughter’s life as one in which she had taken solace in anything that allowed her to numb the pain of a lifetime of trauma.

They’d spent some hours together, the past now forgotten, the mother-daughter bond re-established as she sat and talked, held her daughter’s hand so gratefully received.

With her grandchildren gathering around her she gathered the two young boys and took her leave to allow them to sit with their mother in what could be her final moments.

Now at home and with them eating and given the freedom to play unimpeded, she had time to reflect on a life she never envisaged for a daughter so loved and cared for as a child. It’s what a mother does when a child is near death.

You forget the trials and tribulations; you concentrate on those wonderful moments when your child looked at you expressed love for you.

She looked at the clock then at her phone wondering what was happening. She expected a call. She dreaded the moment it would come.

She wiped away another tear as the youngest boy crawled into her lap with a favourite book for her to read.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/05/23/photo-challenge-166/

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Wordle #156 – Warren Oscitates Once Too Often

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This week’s words: Tough Collapse Syncretism (n. the attempted reconciliation or union of different or opposing principles,practices, or parties, as in philosophy or religion..) Uncanny  Catch Strand Barrel Tendency Reform Warren Vertebra Oscitant ((adj.) yawning, as with drowsiness; gaping. drowsy or inattentive. dull, lazy, or negligent.)

Warren was often told he didn’t have the backbone to succeed. It was something to do with his vertebra not being tough enough to withstand the rigours of everyday life.

His wife often complained that his children ran roughshod over him. She was a woman for whom the concept of things being black and white had worked more than adequately throughout her life and she had more than a tendency to express herself in strident tones about the behaviours of her children. As for Warren, she thought of him as an oscitant as she pictured him of a Saturday afternoon sprawled on the lounge watching the TV with various children draped around him as he snoozed the afternoon away waking only periodically to check the score before drifting back into his default oscitant state oblivious to little Johnny tipping a bag of flour onto the floor or Susie unable to get to the toilet on time collapsing onto the floor in a pool of her own urine.

The real test for the family came when the eldest, Ursula May, took up with the local religious cult, The Church of the Deviant Soul. The wife railed against his parenting as being all to blame for his daughter being led astray by this evil organisation. Warren found that he had to be at his syncretic best to placate his wife and family as he attempted in his best syncretic way to explain the syncretism involved and that in time Ursula May would see the cult for what was. A branch of the devil’s incarnate earthly presence and hence reform her wayward ways.

As Warren waxed on in his own unique way he caught a glimpse of his wife who was tapping her foot. She had an uncanny way of waiting for the right moment to get you over a barrel and before you knew it you were stranded on one of the many sandbars of life she seemed to guide you towards.

In moments like this Warren saw the benefits of his oscitant lifestyle, when staying in a drowsy inattentive state had a lot going for it.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/05/22/wordle-156/

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Writing Prompt Sunday, May 21st – Peculiar – A Trip to Celadon

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celadon:

pale green; pale green glazed pottery

It was Manzy’s idea to go out. It was a Sunday and she was feeling particularly green she said. I hated it when she went all green.

Nothing ever seemed right and all day she’d bitched about going to celadon as that was where she felt most comfortable.

It was an unpleasant journey, with a rough track and if you didn’t wear your green sunny’s the haze and the glare would result in you having the worst sort of green headache and if you’ve never had a green headache you can thank your lucky green starts because they are the worst. Throbbing and then aching, throbbing some more and aching especially when the green moss of the Café Celadon was served on green toast accompanied by a green tea that always tasted more black tea than green. But that’s the thing about green, you have to believe if it looks green it is.

Mansy said she wanted to go to the green glazed pottery workshop, she had this compulsion to see and feel green glazed pottery. There was something about the feel of green glazed pottery that set her off, settled and made her more romantic than she might ordinarily be.

So, after the arduous journey, we turned up at the green glazed pottery shop. By then, of course, she was all a green with expectation and who was I to take it from her. She positively glowed upon entry.

Upon one wall, there stood the most magnificent green glazed pots, a sea of green to the naked eye and she did for a second or two blend in such that I thought she had been consumed by the pots.

Wishful thinking on my part as she emerged clutching a small green glazed pot and held it up for me to see. For four hundred Celadon dollars, we could have it wrapped and carried home, in a gift box which as it turned out came with a particularly attractive green bow.

By mid-afternoon laden with our recent purchase, firmly in her grasp and all the poorer by four hundred green dollars we left Celadon and all its green. Mansy was now calm having taken well and truly her fill of the green that is Celadon.

She said she felt all green again as we journeyed the rough track back home. I looked across as we arrived in our driveway to see her eyes had returned to a natural green, her skin its smooth self with just a touch of green to match her hair which always after a trip to Celadon remained green and often iridescently so. This made sleeping for me a green glazed nightmare.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/05/21/writing-prompt-sunday-may-21st-peculiar/

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Saturday’s Mix–20 May 2017 – The Epic Simile

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On one of my rare forays into a bar, I had met the woman who was to play such a role in my life.

She’d pursued me from the bar and our interaction for the rest of the evening had set up our relationship as something we both wanted to continue.

It was her eyes that attracted me so. They sparkled with life like you wanted to stare into them forever. Their focus convinced you that at that very moment you were the centre of all her attention. From them, a warmth radiated as she engaged with you in a chat that you wanted never to end. When you are wary, nervous and even plain tongue-tied her eyes like diamonds glinted with every passing phrase that came from her mouth and it was with her mouth that I found myself mesmerised by a smile that made me feel as like a child in a lolly shop.

When you added eyes and mouth to the equation you began to feel like an insect attracted to light. Only there was no danger, just an exhilaration you felt inside as you became aware you were forgoing all previous thoughts of distance as the closer you could be the better you felt.

When we’d parted I felt elated. It was like I’d stepped into a realm I never knew was there for me. The pit of my stomach churned but in a good way, like the way, I thought more about her and our evening my stomach reminded me of how I felt about her.

I couldn’t wait for the next day when we’d meet again. I knew I was in for a sleepless night for I felt as if on edge, my life had taken a turn for the better and there was so much to look forward to.

I was hoping she was feeling the same.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/05/20/saturdays-mix-20-may-2017/

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