Wordle #198 #Wordle #MLMM #amwriting – Mrs Best

Posted on May 29, 2018 by Michael

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This week’s words: Absent Acerbic Nestle Numerous Behavior Deleterious Parched Particular Amass Muted Woebegone Maternal

“Mrs Best never rests.” My mother used to say each morning, as she’d be fussing about in the kitchen. She wasn’t a woman with overt maternal qualities as we observed she treated everyone to lashings of her acerbic tongue. Mrs Best went at it from morning till late at night.

There four kids whose muted personalities bore testament to her deleterious manner. Her husband was absent working away, and Mrs Best did her best, but not what we thought of as behaviour to benefit her children.

On Saturdays, the children were given two dollars each and sent off to the movies. They had strict orders as to their behaviour, and woebegone any of them misbehave, and word got back to her.

This allowed her an afternoon to herself. It was a time she used to reflect on the household and to address the numerous bills that seemed to amass on the sideboard.

Once dealt with she would nestle into her lounge and watch the Saturday afternoon movie, particularly if it was something old and sentimental.

This was a form of respite for us as well for as soon as the kids came home; hell resumed its normal duties.

One Monday morning I was home from school and observed mum and Mrs Best on the back veranda drinking tea. Mrs Best remarked that her throat was parched and I wondered if a little less yelling might be a way of easing that.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/05/28/wordle-198-wordle-mlmm-amwriting/

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Envy: Ernest Winston-Jones Part 3

Posted on May 28, 2018 by Michael

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Image: Envy © by Iza-nagi

On his drive to work that morning Ernest also reflected on how his life had changed.

He had woken to find himself once again, alone in the bed. He and Vera had had many raised voice arguments since his fall from financial grace resulting in him sleeping alone.

His reality was one he didn’t know how to deal with. Vera had insisted he find a job to save them from total financial ruin and he knew he was lucky to get the job at Gonners. It never occurred to him at the time that his undoing would impact on his wife. For so long he had taken her for granted knowing she would be there when he returned home each evening, that she would be on his arm at social occasions always affording him that air of respectability. Vera had looked after the house and garden leaving him to do whatever he wanted, and he had done just that.

He too was surprised he had managed to stay out of gaol. His willingness to make restitution had saved him. He knew he’d never make it in gaol, men like him became the toys of the powerful and that indignity would have been his end.

He shuddered at the thought of what might have been.

His business life had been successful, the beach house was a symbol of his standing and prestige, and now that was gone he was in his own eyes not only a social and financial pariah but also, a nobody.

Success had driven him, one business venture after another resulted in profits and profits built his ego to the point of thinking he could make no errors of judgement.

But his last business exercise of investing in a huge block of apartments in an area where there already was a glut on the market proved his undoing. Investors wanted returns, and when they didn’t come, they wanted answers.

Ernest had been sure the market would pick up.

By the time he realised it wasn’t, it was too late. There were inquiries into his business practices, the banks began to call in his loans, and some investors had begun law suites against him.

His business went to the wall, he owed millions, he declared bankruptcy, and it was time to face the music of humiliation

Vera upon discovering the extent of his debt and deceit moved physically away from him within the home.

She would have nothing to do with him but stayed in the marriage knowing alone she would not survive, but together they at least stood a chance.

He found himself in the employee car park at Gonners and awoke to his reality.

He attached his humiliating Ernie badge and headed in to start work on the paint counter.

If you wish to read the earlier parts of this story on my blog page, there is a heading ENVY and all the previous parts can be found there.

 

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Sunday Writing Prompt – Select a Heading – When Willows Weep at Night

Posted on May 27, 2018 by Michael

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When Willows Weep at Night.

When they found the two girls under the weeping willows, their first thought was they were sleeping. Beside them were empty beer bottles and the signs of some sort of party.

So it came as a dreadful shock to discover both girls were dead.

In the weeks that followed an intense search had been conducted, one to identify the girls and two, to track down the killer.

The murders shocked the community. It was a small, tight-knit peaceful part of town. Nothing exciting ever happened there, and the locals were happy with that.

But this event had brought news vans, police to their doorsteps and most of all unwanted publicity to the neighbourhood.

The community shunned the attention, politely answered the police when they called but mostly shut their doors wishing it would all go away.

Thankfully for them, the girls were not locals but from the next town. The police assumed they had come there with others to drink and party on.

Examination of the girls revealed they had both been sexually assaulted and that news didn’t calm any of the residents.

The weeping willows at the end of the street had been there as long as anyone remembered. Years before all this happened it had been a place to realise an assignation, to meet and know that under the willows you were assured of some privacy.

Over their back fences, the locals were disturbed the willows had lost the calm they once had.

One long-term neighbour remarked that at night the willows now hung lower than ever before suggesting they too wept over the deaths of the girls.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/05/27/sunday-writing-prompt-select-a-heading/


 

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Weekend Writing Prompt #56 – Erosion

Posted on May 27, 2018 by Michael

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Their wedding day arrived amidst expectation, joy and excitement.

The pomp and ceremony was carefully planned, the guests like the bride going to great lengths to look their best. Socially it was prestigious to attend.

The event went perfectly, no one suspected the bride and groom had argued the night before. She wanted out, but it was far too late.

She set out to white-ant their marriage. She undermined his every effort to make it work. She started to go out more and more just to be away from him. To her he was poison.

Within a few short years, she had eroded whatever existed of their one time attraction. She gave herself five years, that day was tomorrow. She knew he liked peppered steak.

 

Written for: https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/05/26/weekend-writing-prompt-56-erosion/

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Reena’s Exploration Challenge #Week 38

Posted on May 26, 2018 by Michael

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She was beautiful in so many ways. Nature had blessed her with striking physical beauty, the sort you couldn’t help but stare at. But she wasn’t a hollow beauty she contained an inner beauty that captivated me far more than her external appearance.

Once her eyes transfixed on you there was no way out. She held you and you awaited the next move from her that might send you into raptures of delight or writhe in her derision.

But she was playful. She saw the funny side of things and she wanted you to enjoy what she enjoyed.

She was very aware of her physical beauty, her face like that of an Egyptian Goddess could be deceiving and she liked to be photographed in that style but underneath lay a woman who wanted so much to enjoy life.

Being a real person was important to her, she’d reach out and take you in, include you in discussion wanting to know what you thought as she was very intelligent along with being a lover of limitless affections.

The world was her oyster, but more important was being herself. “Take it or d,” she would say.

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2018/05/24/reenas-exploration-challenge-week-38/

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Thursday photo prompt: Turrets #writephoto

Posted on May 25, 2018 by Michael

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The Turrets were the home of three distinct fairy families.

The Vinnys, the Bats and the Pards.

Together they lived in harmony, plying trade between the three families and coming together or dinners and ceremonial occasions.

The Vinny’s had lived there the longest and were known for their ability to recycle anything. They were in some ways scavengers and each day went out looking for anything they could bring home and find ways to reuse. Each evening you’d hear them in conversation discussing the various uses for the day’s findings.

The Bats had migrated from India in the distant past and were best known for the elaborate costumes and customs they brought with them. Though they had discovered wearing anything elaborate as a fairy had its limitations. Through experience, they had learned that wearing a back pack was the best way to carry one’s costume as their flowing saris and ceremonial gowns did create some havoc when flying as they experienced one time when their wings tangled in their outfits causing an awkward and embarrassing moment.

The Pards, for reasons best known to them, spent most of their time in their gardens cultivating a variety of crops. They kept to themselves a lot and mixed with the other fairy families on a Sunday when they traded their crops. They spoke a strange language if you could imagine a language solely made of adjectives with a sprinkling of nouns. They didn’t use verbs, as they believed they were always doing things so why say it as well.

On the event of the full moon in the fourth month of the year, the three families came together to celebrate the arrival of the southern winter. It was a time to take stock of their Turret world and prepare for the on-coming colder months.

The Vinny’s brought to the celebration a selection of used and recycled goods, the Bats dressed in their finest and prepared foods the melt the taste buds of all and the Pards arrived with a barrow full of their best produce. All items would be shared among the three families, and so the cycle of life in the Turrets would continue.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2018/05/24/thursday-photo-prompt-turrets-writephoto/

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100 Word Wednesday: Week 72 – The American Excursion

Posted on May 25, 2018 by Michael

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The excursion to the American exhibit was popular as they had loads of electronic games and free food.

Every kid flocked, to the food, which was endless in its supply.

Darcy and his girlfriend. Fifi stacked their plates with doughnuts, party pies and cream buns.

They wandered the exhibition stuffing their faces and dropping crumbs wherever they went.

An orange-faced boy with golden hair ordered them to clean up the mess they were making. He threatened to tweet their misdemeanours after photographing them on his iPhone fifteen.

The boy and girl ignored him saying America was grating on their nerves.

 

Written for: https://bikurgurl.com/2018/05/23/100-word-wednesday-week-72/

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Envy: Vera Winston-Jones Part 6

Posted on May 25, 2018 by Michael

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Image: Envy © by Iza-nagi

When Ernest left for work earlier that morning, Vera had sat over her coffee aware that later in the morning Mary would be coming over. With Ernest out of the house and now employed at the local Gonners store Vera was going to have her mornings to herself. She was glad that the day was to be hers. Ernest had driven her crazy the night before telling her he had to learn the layout of the store so should he be asked where buckets might be found he could direct the customer to aisle 42. He had the store layout spread on the dining room table and spend hours studying it and getting her to ask questions about where she might find any product she could think of.

Now he was gone it was time for her to reflect on what had happened in the recent past and how their lives had changed so drastically.

Ernest had been caught giving bad advice to clients who wanted to invest in the property market. He encouraged people to invest in properties he owned, and when the property market crashed the investments, he said he had made for his clients crashed along with it.

He was exposed as a dodgy businessman, and the papers were not backward in saying so. How he avoided gaol was more a miracle than good planning or defence counsel.

Once he was exposed, he had one option only, and that was to sell up and attempt to make restitution.

The upheaval to Vera was all but unbearable.

Their lives changed forever.

What little money they did have was in accounts in Vera’s name and that money they were lucky to keep.

So the Winston-Jones’ went from beach side living to suburban living with no friends and very little in financial security.

Had Ernest not been able to make financial restitution there was every chance he would have ended up locked up. She knew he would not have survived gaol.

She remembered the son of an aged Aunt who spent a lot of time in gaol. She recalled her mother taking her to see her sister and the boy in question after a long stint behind bars was home living with his mother.

He was a strange, withdrawn man. He sat in the corner of the room making no conversation and looking out the window onto the train tracks below. She remembered her Aunt saying what a mess he was, and she didn’t know what was to become of him. A week later her mother announced that her cousin had taken his life, on the train tracks below his mother’s house.

Vera looked around the house she now had to live in. It wasn’t a patch on the beach house, but in some ways it was perfect, it was what Ernest deserved having deceived so many people. For Vera it represented a hiding place, she could feel safe here in the suburbs, away from prying eyes and newspaper reporters who had parked outside their beach house for weeks on end recording their every movement.

She had a good feeling about Mary in that she felt she could talk to her as she’d ascertained early on that Mary had her fair share of secrets too.

If you wish to read the earlier parts of this story on my blog page, there is a heading ENVY and all the previous parts can be found there.

 

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50 Word Thursday #2 – When a Grandson Visits.

Posted on May 24, 2018 by Michael

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Quote: “The old man would have loved that – an unexpected visit from his clever half-English grandson”

The rules:

1 Completed piece must be in mutiples of 50 words – maximum of 250 words. Anything is acceptable – poetry, story, antidote.

2 There will be a photo and a random phrase that I will take from the current book I am reading – you can use either or both

3 Please pingback and tag 50 word Thursday, so I can do a summary on the Thursday morning. You can either put your piece in the comments on this post or do a post of your own.

Part One

Grandad loved it when his grandson came over. He was smart, good-looking and could swing the sledgehammer. Breezing through the back door, he always brought a breath of fresh air to the old man’s soul. Today his mother sent him with fresh scones, and grandad loved a pumpkin scone.

Part Two

Grandad wanted the old brick wall demolished and was glad his grandson could knock it down in no time. With the wall gone, he could get in a truck to pull down the old laundry. Grandad loved renovating, and a youthful offsider was all he needed as he had plans.

Part Three

The grandson swung the big hammer and soon the fence was a pile of rubble. Grandad stood back grinning widely admiring his grandson’s strength and agility. Into an old wheelbarrow, they loaded the bricks grandad saying he’d recycle them on another job building a garden border in the front yard.

Part Four

The two men sat in the kitchen enjoying the pumpkin scones and discussing grandad’s plans. Grandad always made a great cup of tea. The grandson told his grandad about his plan to go on an overseas holiday. Grandad then told his grandson to do it while he was still young.

 

Written for: https://debbiewhittam.wordpress.com/2018/05/24/50-word-thursday-2/

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Tale Weaver – #172 –Libraries – 24 May 2018 – Allistair’s Travelling Library

Posted on May 24, 2018 by Michael

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Allistair’s travelling library was looking neglected.

For those who frequented the library on a regular basis, the problem was a disagreement among the many volumes.

Allistair had done a brilliant job over the years transporting his library from one location to another, and the planting of a tree in the centre gave the library a bit of charm.

Ahead of time posters would appear around the town announcing the library’s return and with hours of business displayed everyone knew where and when it would be.

This time the library and Allistair had stayed a little longer than expected. This was because Allistair had suffered a toothache and had taken himself to the dentist in a nearby town.

The library, therefore, was unattended for a time and Allistair knew with trepidation that was not a good idea.

The library had a history. It was not a good history, as history was not something most of the volumes embraced. Their self-centred nature led them to believe they deserved to be read before any other text.

The romantics, a stuck up lot looked down on anything, not to a standard they approved of, which in reality was most modern literature apart from a few authors like Peter Carey whom they thought intellectually their equal.

The modernists, they referred to as cheap toilet paper as they argued modern novels were not a patch on their academic and stylised selves.

The modernists would in turn yawn and say the Romantics were proficient at two things, producing unenviable volumes of verbal guff and generating the desire to sleep half way through any chosen sentence.

The Jane Austen’s, for example, took exception to the JK Rowlings’. They had been exchanging snide comments ever since Allistair placed the entire Harry Potter series on the shelves opposite them. To exacerbate matters the Rowling’s books were in demand, their borrowing stats going through the roof while the Romantics sat silent gathering more and more dust.

The Austen’s, believe it or not, had always been a feisty lot. In a fit of anger, they propelled a Keats Anthology across the library into Volume Two of the Potter series, The Chamber of Secrets, causing the said volume to retreat into its bookshelf and call upon its siblings to defend it. They ignored the Chamber, believing it junior to the series and faced off to the Austen’s. Another blow this time a copy of Dante’s Inferno, signalling their intent, struck a serious blow to Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. This was a mistake as from the Harry Potter in question a bolt of lightning was launched across the space striking a dozing copy of Sense and Sensibility, already a super sensitive introverted text in itself, and leaving a very untoward scar across its spine. In all righteousness, the Austen’s were deeply affronted by this, the entire library descended into a free for all.

Insults and accusations rained down from all levels of the library as random volumes fell upon each other. The entire “Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Fortune” crashed into the furniture sending it flying in many directions.

Through it, all the tree stood stoically as various texts bounced off it. It saw red though when a copy of CM Bark’s, The Bark Maketh the Tree, collided with him. That the tree thought was sacrilege.

While chaos reigned within the library, the tree reflected on its purpose in life. In the beginning, it was a quaint novelty, a point of reference, a convenient spot to sit by and pour over a selected tome.

As the tree had grown, it became more and more self-conscious. It had grown to proportions no one anticipated, and there had been suggestions of late as to what Allistair might do with it. The tree feared being removed permanently and its days of trying to look inconspicuous were well over.

His only friend, within the library, was the globe who during the ruckus sought shelter beneath the Memoirs, ever hopeful of being selected oozed an air neediness to anyone passing by.

When Allistair returned, his state of feel-good was shattered. He was saddened to see the mess the Library was in. He admonished the Romantics reminding them that their days were numbered and suggesting their survival may depend upon their getting along with everyone else as they were not as high and mighty as they perceived themselves to be.

Taking his green wand from inside his coat pocket and looking to see no one was watching he waved it around the library and immediately order was restored.

Wandering over to his friend the tree he tapped its truck with his wand and watched as the tree shrunk to a more manageable size.

‘There,’ he thought, ‘all is as it should be.’

And smiling at the Harry Potter’s said, “And you thought Dumbledore was a great wizard?”

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/05/24/tale-weaver-172-libraries-24-may-2018/

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