What do you see # 64 – Flight

Posted on January 12, 2021 by Michael

 Dressed in all her finery, she ran towards the gates.

She believed that beyond them lay hope, prosperity and love.

Up till this point, her life had been a struggle, pain and despair.

As she drew near, the gate sellers tempted her, warned her; it was a folly.

It will be doom, they crowed at her

Your beauty will wither, and you’ll be more crone than girl.

Your pretty dress will be torn to shreds; your clothes will rags.

Stay here; take this trinket, drink this wine, it’s medicinal.

She hesitated a moment, knew the risk,

But it couldn’t be as bad as the world she lived in.

As she stepped through the gates, there were hands pulling her back,

Ignoring the voices, the advice, she took her leave and entered the dark valley.

A man in black appeared, looked down on her from the height of his horse

Hand her a card, then rode off.

The card gave her directions to the castle

She assumed that was where she was to go.

The castle had similar gates, similar sellers,

But they welcomed her, clothed her, fed her.

What was this place she wondered?

It took time for her to grasp the comfort she felt,

Her despair lingered on her shoulder

She suspected, anticipated, disaster at any second.

She wandered the crowded marketplace

A man in white took her hand,

Said he had shelter for her

She’d heard this story before

She was ready, defences were up.

Her new room was clean and tidy,

The locks were on the inside,

The man in white said to come to the castle office

He would give her work.

She slept well for the first time in ages

No thought of intruders, of violation.

She awoke thinking it was all a dream

But the room was real, the bed a comfort.

There were clothes for the day, food to eat

An invitation to the castle.

Her door was still locked.

Written for: https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2021/01/11/what-do-you-see-64/

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Sunday Writing Prompt – 10th January – Getting Lucky

Posted on January 10, 2021 by Michael

 He was watching the draw and sat mesmerised as his numbers came out of the barrel.

He had five and knew he was not only getting lucky but was feeling lucky.

He wanted twenty-eight to win the big one.

His heart was in his mouth; he was on the edge of his seat.

The barrel rolled, the numbers cascaded, was tonight his lucky night?

Then the barrel stopped; there was a number rolling down the chute.

Twenty-nine!

“What?” he shouted at the television, “Twenty-nine? Who in their right mind would have twenty-nine?”

Five numbers got him a pretty good return, but six would have set him up for a long time.

His dad had always told him gambling ‘was a hard game’ and tonight not only was it a hard game but a depressing one.

Each weeknight he played, he wasn’t a big-time gambler, just twenty bucks or so and if he won a small amount, he re-invested his winnings in another game.

There was always the chance of getting lucky, and it would never happen if he didn’t have a ticket.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/01/10/sunday-writing-prompt-10th-january-getting-lucky/

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Tale Weaver – #309 – 7th January – A Basket Case – An Officers Fang and Dang Story.

Posted on January 9, 2021 by Michael

 The phone rang, disturbing Officers Dang and Fang from their afternoon nap.

It had been a hectic morning, and the Officers of the law had had a tough time with Archie the Coffee Man ripping them off over their coffee order.

Dang looked at his phone and saw the word staring out at him. BASKET.

“Fang, you awake, looks like we’ve got another basket case.”

“What again? I thought we solved all that.”

“We’d better get on the case. Come on.”

The officers headed off in their car, siren wailing, Fang loved the sound of the siren, it gave him a sense of belonging and contributing to society. For Dang, it gave him a headache.

They arrived to a scene where multiple police cars were randomly parked. Fang and Dang parked the same way.

Inside was a brutal scene. A dead body, blood and a basket.

The body lay in the middle of the room, surrounded by a pool of its own blood. The basket had been jammed over the victim’s head and rested around its neck like some odd medieval collar.

“What’s this guy got against baskets?” asked Fang looking at the carnage.

“Could be a history buff,” announced Dang, “some people have weird fixations on certain periods of history.”

Over the previous months, there had been several deaths of a similar nature. Fang and Dang had investigated those as well and had come to the same conclusion each time. They had no idea who, what or why these murders were happening.

Then again, Fang and Dang weren’t the brightest Officers around. They thought turning up at a murder scene constituted an investigation.

Their first act when on the scene was to turn to Junior Constable Snertle and send her to get coffee. After all, sipping on coffee at a murder scene gave them a sense of looking cool and that had to mean something.

They asked the medical officer what the status of the body was. Dead.

Was the deceased male or female? Male.

Was he known to anyone? No.

Motive? None.

Basket? Once had been round and cane the sort you could buy at K-Mart.

Fang and Dang asked these questions knowing the answers wouldn’t shed any light of the case apart from the obvious. A dead body, a destroyed, perfectly good, basket and a lot of blood.

They headed back to the station. There they felt safe, felt important, like no one expected too much from them, and they were good at delivering that expectation.

The Chief was of a similar disposition and greeted them munching a salad sandwich.

“Any developments?” he asked.

“Just the usual,” replied Fang.

The Chief nodded and turned on the afternoon football match. “Forensics will be in touch soon, best be prepared.”

Fang and Dang agreed as they settled in front of the match, placing their bets on the match on the table.

“Having a basket jammed over your head like that must hurt, don’t you think?” asked Fang.

“Hurt like crazy,” replied Dang.

“Can you two shut up I want to watch the match,” stated the Chief taking another bite of his sandwich.

“Sorry, Chief,” they chorused.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2021/01/07/tale-weaver-309-7th-january-a-basket-case/

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Tale Weaver – #308 – New Beginnings – 31st December

Posted on January 1, 2021 by Michael

Can you turn the page?

It’s not hard.

You just have to reach out.

It’s been a rough time for you

Crap piled on crap.

It can’t be any worse,

Can it?

You deserve a new beginning

Where suffering can be left behind.

Go on be brave

You’ll see a light at the end of the tunnel

I’ll hold your hand if you like

Come on let’s go.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/12/31/tale-weaver-308-new-beginnings-31st-december/

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Sunday Writing prompt – In the thick of it – December 27th – Christmas Lunch

Posted on December 27, 2020 by Michael

It seemed a reasonable idea at the time.

After all, it was Christmas, and it was, in theory, a time of peace and goodwill to all men and women.

So here we all were gathered around my new table in my new room eating the food I’d spent the morning preparing.

Then one said one thing, then another replied, the words started to escalate, what had been a pleasant hour was now deteriorating, and I found myself in the thick of it.

All their past grievances were coming to the fore.

One aunt accused one uncle of never supporting her against their father; she was then accused of always looking for excuses and never accepting responsibility for her own actions.

All efforts on my part to shift the conversation away from the present topics came to naught.

By the time we got to dessert, there was no turning back.

One vowed never to speak to the other.

That was greeted with agreement from another, and how their lives would be so much better if they never had to see the other.

I was feeling pretty crushed by now, there was always a possibility this might happen, but I thought since it was Christmas they might temper themselves, but no.

Aunt Glad threw her Christmas pudding across the table at Uncle Alan. It landed on his head, a good shot under different circumstances.

Then it was on for young and old, my new room finding itself caked in pudding and custard.

There was nothing I could do other than scream at the top of my lungs for them all to stop and go home.

There was instant silence, as they’d never heard me speak like that. Embarrassment and guilt flooded the room as they took stock of each other.

Aunt Glad apologised as she wiped the pudding from her hair, along with Aunt and Uncle Rose and Charlie they offered to help clean up, but I’d had enough and said I preferred it if they left and I’d do the clean up. As it was, I’d copped my own share of pudding as they hurled it across the room, catching me in their crossfire.

It was one thing to be in the thick of it; it was another to wear the shame of it for all to see.

Once they’d left, I sat and took stock, there was a lot to clean up, but first I needed to settle my nerves.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/12/27/sunday-writing-prompt-in-the-thick-of-it-december-27th/

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Tale Weaver – Gift – December 24th – The Gift

Posted on December 24, 2020 by Michael

Christmas preparations had been going on all week. I was proud of the job we had done on the Christmas tree, festooned with colour and flashing lights.

Underneath we had laid our gifts but there was one gift that caught my eye.

It was wrapped in the most beautiful of wrap, shining and sparkly and looking magnificent in its own way.

The issue was I couldn’t tell who it was from nor identify easily who it was for.

It sat among our many gifts to each other with the gift tag saying: “The naughtiest person”.

Suddenly my household was thrown into confusion as we all tried to ascertain which of us was the naughtiest.

There was a convincing argument for all of us qualifying as the potential naughtiest.

The kids being kids was argument enough for them, my wife for stuffing up the Christmas pudding, and turning it into a sickly excuse for a pudding and me of course for when I’d come home from a fishing trip and announced my impressive catch only to have all my bravado overturned when a piece of newspaper from the fish shop was discovered still stuck on the side of the fish. I was sure I’d removed it all.

Christmas morning arrived and gifts were exchanged and opened till only the mysterious gift was felt under the tree.

As we all qualified for the naughtiest person we decided to flip heads or tails to see who would open it.

My wife won, much to the disappointment of the kids and so the present was opened.

Inside was a card that read: “As the recipient of this card, keep it close to you all year as a reminder to be good for next Christmas. In the meantime rub the card with your thumb and index finger and see what happens.”

She rubbed the card and then a flash of light lit the room and we were surrounded by the biggest food hamper I had ever seen. Another card attached to the food read: “Distribute to the poor.”

What a wonderful way to spend our Christmas afternoon we thought as we packed the food into the car and headed for the town hall where the local charities were preparing for the evening Christmas dinner for those in need and alone.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/12/24/tale-weaver-gift-december-24th/

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#WQWWC #3: Winter

Posted on December 22, 2020 by Michael

“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.”
–Hal Borland

The above quote is so true. Especially in my part of the world. No matter how harsh the season is there is always the thought that following winter, or in my case at this time of year, summer, the weather will move away from extremes and the in-between seasons spring and autumn will be far more pleasant.

A year ago the weather was the worst I can remember. We had high temperatures, nothing unusual about that, but we also had devastating bushfires, many homes destroyed, lives lost on top of a drought that had left the landscape brown and ideal for the fires that ravaged it.

At this time, 2020, we have had a lot of rain; the countryside is magnificent and extremely healthy.

I know which of the two I’d prefer.

Our winters are very mild where I live. When we get a frost in the morning we think it’s a severe winter but I once lived in a part of the state where the frost would stay on the ground if the sun didn’t hit that part of the ground.

I find it helpful on those days when the cold bites at you, or you can’t get cool because of the heat, to remind myself that there is always someplace worse than here.

So in a couple of days it will be Christmas, we are in the midst of a Covid surge and we await the state premier to give us details as to how we will have to spend Christmas. I’ve been lucky in that my area has been pretty much Covid free/safe but I am learning you have to be careful.

This year Christmas day won’t be a stinking hot day, in fact there’s every chance it will rain.

But on those hot days there is the thought that it won’t be forever and the cool of the autumn will be upon us

No matter what we humans do to our climate, we are assured that the seasons will follow and that is always a joy to consider on those days of extremes.

So enjoy your Christmas in whatever form you celebrate it, stay safe and wherever you live keep warm and or cool.

Written for: https://tchistorygal.net/2020/12/16/wqwwc-3-winter/

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What do you see # 61 – 21st December 2020 – Bringing On Christmas.

Posted on December 21, 2020 by Michael

It was that time of the year again.

The kids were at me, the wife demanding, the pressure building, shopping to be done and it seemed everything and everyone was demanding something of me and my resolve was fading by the minute.

The tree the kids called to me. Get it out. We want to put it up.

So I crawled into the attic, brushed away the spider webs and dragged out the boxed tree.

I felt the resentment of having so much put upon me. I didn’t feel Christmas was in any way a joyous occasion.

Once the tree was out, laid out on the lounge room floor, the kids set to work. Then the arguments started.

One wanted this decoration, here, another wanted it there, the pulling and pushing began.

Where was the fun in this I asked myself as I separated the warring sides?

My youngest was pushed aside and sat on the floor holding a blue bauble, awaiting her turn to place it on the tree but had decided retreat for the moment was the best option.

This was torture I heard myself say.

Stop I said. Lets remember what we are doing and why.

It’s supposed to be fun.  A shared time. Peace and goodwill to all men not war and dislike.

The kids stopped, their initial reaction was to voice their opinions. None of which were in agreement with the other.

I suggested we stop and each take a turn, look at how the tree looked, suggest change if needed, more importantly have fun doing what we love to do.

It worked; we got it all up and going, lights and all.

Then the excitement of the gifts appearing, the wonder of what might be inside, the inner glow I felt when I noticed one of the biggest gifts was addressed to me.

That sense of expectation, wonder, joy came back to me.

The kids excitement growing daily, their creating their own cards for each other, helping our smallest, watching as Mother and eldest mixed the pudding and hung it in the shed, checking the fridge for the custard, hanging the decorations and remembering to get out Nanna’s lolly tree.

What a great time.

Written for: https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2020/12/21/what-do-you-see-61-21st-december-2020/

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Sunday Writing Prompt – 20th December –Letter to Santa

Posted on December 20, 2020 by Michael

Dear Santa,

It’s me Tommy.

Straight up I’ll admit to not being good all the time this year. It wasn’t my fault but more my sister Ally’s fault.

So when you receive a letter from her please treat it with a grain of salt.

Ally is a real cow. Couldn’t lie straight in bed as they say.

The incident with Mum’s rolling pin was not my doing even though in the end I was the one found holding the wretched thing. She set me up and afterwards all I heard was Ally laughing loudly as Mum extracted her revenge upon me.

The business with the hydrangeas was another case of me being set up.

Mum had planted them across the front of our place and Ally informed me that the ideal fertilizer was to pee on them. I thought tis was a great idea, think of all the time that could be saved when outside playing, when the urge came to just run over to the plants and let it all out.

I’d been doing for a few days when Ally ran in to Mum, telling her that I was poisoning the hydrangeas. Mum went a bit psycho and banned me from the garden altogether. All the time I was trying to help the plants along.

So you see it hasn’t been all plain sailing for me. I did do the shopping for old Mrs Green each week. She gave me a dollar for my efforts so that has to be one for me in the ‘good’ column.

I did ask your helper Santa at the shopping centre for a computer game so if you could manage overlooking the above, not so ‘good’ incidents I will try and improve for next year.

Mum’s made a very tasty caramel slice this year and I’ll leave out a slice for you along with a can or two of something to help you though the night.

Hope your trip this year is successful, stay safe and I look forward to Christmas morning.

Regards

Tommy.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/12/20/sunday-writing-prompt-20th-december-letter-to-santa/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #110 – Crisp and Christmas

Posted on December 19, 2020 by Michael

Crisp my aged companion and I were out walking and looking up she saw the elf.

“Well there’s someone with a axe to grind,” she remarked.

“How so?” I asked.

“They’ve crucified the elf.”

Crisp had made it clear she wasn’t much into Christmas and in recent days we had been surrounded by all things Christmas.

She was more your Scrooge than Father Christmas.

“Look at it,” she’d say, “all that expense on decorations, lights and what have you when there are starving children in Africa.”

“But its been a tough year,” was my reply, “restrictions and all the worry of Covid, maybe people need the opportunity to celebrate.”

“You may be right, but it’s a whole lot of humbug if you are ask me. I take your point. Just don’t be getting above yourself. It’s not often you are right.”

I had to agree with that.

Written for: https://crispinakemp.com/2020/12/16/crimsons-creative-challenge-110/

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