#JusJoJan Daily Prompt – January 11th, 2018 – “Humiliate.”

Posted on January 11, 2018 by Michael

jjj-2018

Humiliate

The Reverend Mother looked at the boy before her and saw a crude, callous and deserving creature of all the punishment she could deliver.

It was her God-given obligation to teach boys humility even if she had to belt it into him.

He was at fault there was no doubt. She’d heard him exclaim, “bloody pen” as everyone settled down to their maths exercise. There was no way she was going to give up this opportunity to humiliate the boy in front of the class.

As it was she disliked boys. They were vile, smelly and uncouth and if she had her way she’d belt every one of them everyday.

The boy in question was stood in front of the class as she delivered her tirade on blasphemy, swearing and the disgusting practices of all boys. She knew she held the class in her hand as they were waiting for her to swing the cane.

She didn’t let them down; the boy received six of her best for being a repulsive guttersnipe. She watched him cringe as he made his way back to his seat, his humiliation complete as she felt the exhilaration of his tears.

 

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2018/01/11/jusjojan-daily-prompt-january-11th-2018/

 

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 37 Comments

Tale Weaver – #154 – January 11th – Beauty – The Witch Marble

Posted on January 11, 2018 by Michael

24059171_10212453031815330_8441175996981371918_n

Image © Trudy Calliess Preston – Used with permission

There was a time in days past when Prince’s Charming roamed about their kingdoms seeking out maidens in distress which gave rise to maidens creating more and more ingenious ways to attract the attention their respective Prince Charming.

The village Seamstress had one such daughter, a vain girl who when she wasn’t learning the skills of the seamstress spent all her time looking at herself and trying various ways to look more and more beautiful.

The daughter, Lizzie Needlepoint, for that, was their more than befitting name, was, in fact, a beautiful girl, tall and thin, her long blonde hair cascaded down her back and her eyes and smile were more than alluring.

But Lizzie was never satisfied and when the announcement was made of a Ball to be held at the King’s Palace for all the villagers to attend Lizzie saw it as her great opportunity to impress the Prince and win his hand. After all, in Lizzie’s opinion, there was no one else in the Kingdom to match her natural beauty.

So the planning began, her mother set to work on making her a new and beautiful dress, Lizzie practised day and night her curtsy and bowing, discussed her hair with friends and set in motion a plan.

Part of the plan was to get a little extra help by consulting The Witch Marble who lived out on Grim’s Mace on the edge of the village. Like all witches of the time The Witch Marble was known to possess the skill to create magic potions and Lizzie under cover of night went to The Witch Marble’s place to ask her for a potion to allure the Prince to her beauty.

The Witch Marble was a young witch and humble in the business she did with the village. She saw immediately the vanity of Lizzie and worried over what the girl might expect.

But she did have such a potion as Lizzie desired but did warn her that it might not work if the Prince possessed a magic of his own.

Lizzie not wanting to hear anything that might be negative and took the potion and applied it readily to her good self the night of the ball.
In her new dress, her hair beautifully coiffured and the magic potion in place she approached the castle sure she was going to be a hit.

She stood in the ballroom and waited for the Prince to be lured to her. Across the room, she saw him approaching and readied herself.

To her amazement, he walked by her barely giving her a look. Lizzie was furious. She tried several times during the night to draw his attention, but it was as if she wasn’t there.

She stormed out of the castle and headed for the home of The Witch Marble determined to take it out on her as her humiliation in from of the King, and everyone present was more than she could bear.

The Witch Marble was in the process of mixing a potion to calm nerves when frayed as Lizzie burst through the door and delivered a tirade of abuse.

The Witch Marble listened to the angry girl then when she had finished invited her to sit down.

“The Prince, my dear Lizzie, possesses a power enabling him to see the inner beauty in every person and object he encounters. Your external beauty was stunning, there is no doubt, but you possess no inner beauty as you are too tired up in what people see of you on the outside. It’s your inner beauty that will win over any potential lover and husband.”

Lizzie was not impressed at all with The Witch Marble’s explanation and promised to spread the word that she was nothing more than a charlatan.

Understanding her indignation, The Witch Marble offered Lizzie a small vial of her calming potion saying it would enable Lizzie to sleep and feel better in the morning.

Lizzie snatched it from her and marched away telling herself the vengeance she had in store for The Witch Marble would bring about her end.

That night unable to talk to her mother she took herself to her bed, gulped down the potion and fell asleep.

The next morning Lizzie awoke and felt wonderfully calm. She walked out to find her mother already at work and proclaimed, “ Oh Mother, but you are looking so well this morning.”

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/01/11/tale-weaver-154-january-11th-beauty/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

In Other Words, forward…

Posted on January 10, 2018 by Michael

in-other-words1

Forward

She said the only way was forward.

“You can cry over spilt milk for only so long.”

I surveyed the wreck that was my life in that one moment.

“Gird your loins my darling, we are stepping out away from the mire you’ve been wallowing in.”

Taking her hand, along with the trust I felt in being with her, we hesitantly looked out the window.

 

Written for: https://patriciasplace.me/2018/01/10/in-other-words-forward/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , | 7 Comments

Twittering Tale #66 – 9 January 2018 – The Interview

Posted on January 9, 2018 by Michael

eddie-garcia-503678

Lights blazed, men in suits looked formidable.

Where were you on the night of the tenth?

Home in bed.

Liar. We have ways of making you talk.

Gulp.

Bring me the thumb screws.

Gulp.

Answer my question.

Ok I did it, I killed Cock Robin.

I thought so. Lock him up.    (252 characters)

 

Written for: https://katmyrman.com/2018/01/09/twittering-tale-66-9-january-2018-the-interview/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , | 9 Comments

#JusJoJan Daily Prompt – January 9th, 2018 – coffee

Posted on January 9, 2018 by Michael

jjj-2018

Coffee

Like so many of his friends, she wasn’t with it until she had her morning cup of joe.

“With cream,” she’d say as she looked bleary-eyed at the morning. The transformation was remarkable.

From the first sip, the hagged drooling creature before me turned into the princess I knew and loved.

I always thought it a pleasure to be the one who initiated that change.

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2018/01/09/jusjojan-daily-prompt-january-9th-2018/

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

FFfAW Challenge-Week of January 9, 2018 – A Twisted Mind

Posted on January 9, 2018 by Michael

photo-20180108154705053

Image: © Fandango

When we found him sitting on the kerb, drool dripping from his lip he was strangely coherent.

“It’s my brain,” he said, in his rich English accent. “It’s all scrambled, twisted in on itself and I can’t seem to do a thing about it. I think one thing and the opposite sits up beside it arguing it’s what I should be thinking. I’ve given up. It’s easier to let them fight it out and for me to sit there and worry.”

At the refuge, we bathed him, gave him clean clothes, a meal and a bed. He fell asleep within seconds but an hour later was awake claiming he’d been kidnapped and shanghaied onto an Antarctic whaling boat. From his mouth came a fierce debate as to where he was.

After a little time, he fell back asleep as we made arrangements for him and his twisted mind to get the help he needed.

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/01/08/fffaw-challenge-week-of-january-9-2018/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , | 22 Comments

#JusJoJan Daily Prompt – January 8th, 2018 – Pants

Posted on January 8, 2018 by Michael

jjj-2018

Pants

It was clear to anyone who bothered to notice as to who wore the pants in the family.

“You’ll make someone a good wife,” he was told as he shifted one child to a more comfortable spot on his hip while watching the youngest play in the dirt.

In the meantime his wife lorded it around, a social butterfly forever telling everyone who’d listen how much of a good mother she was.

That night after arriving home she took herself off to bed complaining she was exhausted from the day out. He bathed and dress the small ones for bed and then settled into a nightly routine he wondered would ever end of walking the floor with the baby in an effort to settle him for fear of waking his wife and disturbing her sleep.

 

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2018/01/08/jusjojan-daily-prompt-january-8th-2018/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments

Wordle #182 – The Crackle

Posted on January 8, 2018 by Michael

week-172

This week’s words: Crackle Bloodline Lotus-eater ((n.)a member of a people represented by Homer as living in a state of dreamy forgetfulness and idleness as a result of eating the fruit of the lotus plant. Giddy Memory Dangerous Akimbo Satin Hips Fusillade ((n.) a series of shots fired or missiles thrown all at the same time or in quick succession.) Bloom Fasten

My mother had often warned me about the crackle. She had this thing whereby she’d go into a rant about the dangers of stepping on discarded wrapping paper. I thing it made her blood run cold and even though our bloodline wasn’t one to talk about, we’d descended from petty criminals transported to Australia in the early 1800s mum was proud of our heritage.

But me she’d refer to as a lotus eater, off with the fairies she’d say and when I came home late she’d be there standing at the front door arms akimbo tapping her foot and awaiting an explanation that had better be good.

She had a memory like an elephant, never forgetting a thing and was quick to remind you of any past indiscretion when the mood took her.

My mum had satin hips, soft and warming which left me giddy with love for her on the rare occasion she let me cuddle up to her.

As I was a professional burglar, in fact our whole male line were burglars which meant at any one time any one of us was holidaying with Her Majesty, I’d been warned about the crackle. “You can’t trust it,” mum would say.

I did a job one morning and was about to take my leave of the place along with all their silver when it happened. Crackle, crackle, crackle, it echoed around the room and the sound quickly woke the owners and their dogs.

I took off through the summer garden full of summer blooms, over the fence and down the street. Before long I could hear the police in pursuit. As I neared home there was a fusillade of shots and felt a pain in my bum. They’d got me but I was determined to get home. Mum saw me coming opened the door and fastened it behind me. As I stood there puffing she looked me up and down and said, “The crackle, it got you eh?”

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/01/08/wordle-182-2/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

#JusJoJan Daily Prompt – January 7th, 2018 – indelible

Posted on January 7, 2018 by Michael

jjj-2018

Indelible

When Mary-Anne’s husband left her for a younger woman after thirty years of marriage, she was understandably devastated. For a long time, she wandered in a daze unsure of what to do with herself. Her children were grown up, and even though they called in to check up on her, they had their own lives and so for the most she was left alone.

But she had a determined streak within her and one day when walking through the town came across a tattoo shop and without a moment’s thought went in and came out with a small butterfly on her left heel.

Her children were shocked beyond belief that their sixty plus mother was having her body tattooed.

For Mary-Anne, it was an epiphany. The exhilaration she felt when the needle contacted her skin was not what she expected, and she loved it. She started to dream of more tattoos, she wanted them in more discrete places and found a lady who tattooed in the privacy of her home.

Over time Mary-Anne had the indelible ink in places she never dreamed she’d let any one look at let alone draw on.

 

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2018/01/07/jusjojan-daily-prompt-january-7th-2018/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 9 Comments

Sunday Writing Prompt #236 “It’s All In The Title” – Shadows in the Cellar

Posted on January 7, 2018 by Michael

mariyaolshevska

Image: mariyaolshevska

Shadows in the Cellar

They were always there and had learned stealth. Moving when you weren’t watching.

They were a little clumsy as well. A paint tin knocked over, the spanner set rearranged and their need for tissues always evident by the tissues abandoned on the stairs.

Despite they’re being untidy and leaving evidence we never saw them. They were all intense and purposes, shadows in the corner of our eyes.

Dad had known about them for a long time. He told me when I was fifteen, pointed out the tissues on the stairs and told me not to worry about them as they lived in the cellar and didn’t cause any harm, apart from mess.

When I was sixteen my parents organised a party for me and I made the mistake of mentioning to a few mates about the shadow people. Being naturally curious they wanted to stake out the cellar to see if they could see them.

So three mates and I after everyone had gone home decided to campout in the cellar. It had been a great party and a long day so we were all tired but determined to stay awake and be vigilant.

Of course it wasn’t long before we were all asleep.

I woke just on dawn with my three mates snoring beside me. Around them were discarded tissues, each with a small amount of lipstick on each.

When they woke up and looked around and saw the tissues they claimed the shadow people must have been there. I let them believe the story never telling them my dad had snuck down after we were asleep and dropped mum’s tissues from wiping off her lipstick.

But the next morning when we wandered down there was a small change in the cellar, dad’s hunting knife was stuck in the wall and he claimed he’d not been down there.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/01/07/sunday-writing-prompt-236-its-all-in-the-title/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 19 Comments