Image: keywest3 at Pixabay
There’s no less travelled road she bewailed
Says a lot about this place.
Goodtimes either way?
You take the high road?
I’ll take the low road.
Written for: https://katmyrman.com/2017/09/19/twittering-tale-50-19-september-2017/
Image: Pamela S. Canepa.
No one was sure why it was in the middle of the day the lights all went out. Well, save for a few cars and the emergency lighting in the buildings around.
Aliens was the initial cry, one we had feared would happen sooner rather than later. People understandably panicked though no one was sure why. Sometimes people need something to worry about until they stop and learn the facts.
The darkness lasted all afternoon, and as so much of the power was out, it was hard to get any information as to the cause.
By peak afternoon the lights came back on, but the sun didn’t.
We hadn’t realised it was more than the initial power outage that was the problem.
It was then we felt the cold. The wind turned icy, the rivers froze, our lives took on a whole new direction. Careers ended as survival took over.
Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/09/18/fffaw-challenge-week-of-september-19-2017/
This week’s words and phrases: monkey wrench dust bunny jejune [naive, simplistic, and superficial|(of ideas or writings) dry and uninteresting] Rowboat goose-neck lamp Dementia Angst vexatious [causing or tending to cause annoyance, frustration, or worry|denoting an action or the bringer of an action that is brought without sufficient grounds for winning, purely to cause annoyance to the defendant] pernicious [having a harmful effect, especially in a gradual or subtle way] Mollycoddle milk bottle vermilion lipstick [vermilion:a brilliant red pigment made from mercury sulfide (cinnabar)]
The instructor strode to the front of the group of new recruits and knew from the word go that his vermillion lipstick could be a factor in determining the group’s attitude to him, but he knew they would soon learn that he was not there to mollycoddle any of them.
He had a pernicious attitude to them and was determined that every vexatious action would cement intent to mould them into soldiers of the highest quality.
As expected his directives, his attitude and his stubborn insistence that they obey his every order resulted in the group displaying their responses in the most angst-ridden teenage way imaginable. Whinging was not tolerated, and he dismissed claims that Majors, aged 94, was a demented soldier pausing only to call the man out for what he was, a shirker of the highest quality. Times were tough, and every man no matter his age or physical condition was required to do his bit for the cause and noble cause it was at that.
The first task for the group was to take a rowboat each and make their way to the island across from them and there to find the goose-neck lamp, read three pages of the recruitment manual and row back carrying the goose-neck lamp with them.
From the very start, there was trouble as Majors now more confused than ever and suffering jejune moments by the second, capsized the row boat and plunged everyone into the icy water.
In the following confusion Jenkins, who hated the water, called Majors a dust bunny to which Majors now wet as well as confused struck out at Jenkins with a monkey wrench he happened to have in his kit seriously injuring the pernicious Jenkins.
It was all going to plan as the instructor watching the action from the shore line touched up his vermillion lipstick as he took a deep and satisfying drink from the milk bottle in his left hand.
“Monkey wrench,” he thought, “what a good idea to slip it into Majors kit and tell him it was a flag he had to wave should anything bad happen. Shame that Jenkins got in his way.”
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/09/18/wordle-172/
My Backyard some months ago, as it undergoes change.
For: https://trablogger.com/mundane-monday-challenge-127-learn-photography/
The young mother takes a deep breath as the last of her three children is now asleep. She looks over them as they are resting, understanding that for them the day has been one full of activity and exercise.
Her own desire for rest is overwhelming. Her three sons are demanding and needy, and the littlest one cannot do anything without his mum at his side. They are exhausting and its normal she knows for boys 5, 4 and 3 to be that way.
But no matter what she loves them with a passion and misses them terribly when they go to their father’s.
She is unable to go to bed just yet as the kitchen needs cleaning and there is washing to be folded and put away, the eldest boy’s school uniform to be made ready and a check of the refrigerator to make sure there is food for their lunches.
She sits for a moment taking in the silence that now settles over the house. It’s in times like this that she appreciates the boys being asleep. These are precious moments when she can have time for herself, but she knows she can’t stop and dwell on it as there is work to do before she too can take to her bed.
Getting up she flicks on the music she has on her iPod, turns up the volume a little so she can immerse herself in the songs and goes to the kitchen sink where the day’s dirty dishes await her.
It’s been many months since her husband walked out on her. He’s good to the boys but she knows he’s a good time dad and try as she might most of the raising and discipline is left to her as he only sees the boys every two weeks.
Most nights she cries over her situation. She feels so very alone even though she has family around her but at times like this when she’s alone, the reality of her situation hits home to her.
She sets herself an hour to clean up and get done what she can. She knows her own rest is important if she wants to function the next day.
She prioritises what she does and when the time is up she sets the washing machine going as her boys generate a load of washing each day.
She glances briefly at the calendar on the wall and notes that this Friday they have tickets to the circus. That will be a real treat for her and the boys. They have been talking about it and are excited to go.
As she settles herself into her bed, she welcomes the restfulness the bed affords her and drifts easily into slumber.
Written for: https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2017/09/16/weekend-writing-prompt-20-resting/
This week’s task:
Since it is our first ‘Opposing Forces’ challenge, our words this week are:
– first and last
– beginning and end
One thing you had to admire about Casey was he was the first to arrive and always the last to leave. This was especially so when on the weekends, we were in charge of the BBQ at the local hardware store no matter how early you turned up to help Casey was always there.
His involvement was the beginning of a dynasty of BBQ helpers and the end for anyone else with ambitions to be involved in the organisation. He was it, first and foremost and as a result believed he could also have the last word when it came to the organisation.
He believed it was up to him to have a roster ready and circulated in time for the Saturday event and in contacting everyone who had volunteered their time he firstly made sure of their availability at the time he allocated for them and at the same time should they decline to attend at the designated time he made sure they were the last to be contacted the next time around.
So, from the beginning of the day till the very end Casey was there, flipping the sausages, chatting to the customers and generally doing all he could to make the BBQ a success and the fund raising the best he could make it.
It came as a surprise to us all when his end came just as he was beginning to enjoy himself. At last, we thought he will be first in line at the heavenly BBQ until he would be sure to take that over.
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/09/16/saturday-mix-opposing-forces-16-september-2017%ef%bb%bf/
September 14, 2017, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a riptide. How can it be used to move a story? It could be a stretch of turbulent water or a pull of another kind. Go where the prompt leads even if you find it unexpected.
His life was crap there was no other way of stating it. He spent so much of his time wading deep in whatever misfortune floated his way.
Then as if caught in a serious riptide everything changed. It was the small woman. She held out a hand, not to rescue but to reassure him.
She swam beside him, encouraged and supported him in moments when his self-doubt took over.
She changed the ebb and flow of his life. Guided him to land, sat with him as he took a breath and led him towards a new and fulfilling life.
Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2017/09/15/september-14-2017/
It was knowledge he craved
Realising there was so much to absorb
He spent a lifetime chasing it wherever he could.
There was no doubt the longing lived inside him
He tried his hand at so many things
Discovered a love of words and the shapes they might take.
He wanted his words to sing, to play out
So, he wrote for performance
Both musical and play.
Always there was the hunger to go that bit further
But more than once he found his limit reached.
It was then he knew it was time to change tack
Try another approach, find a new audience.
His goal became to engage his readers, titillate them
Have them question their own responses to his words
Could and even would they see the longing within him.
It was never words for the sake of words
When that happened, he admonished himself
Reminding himself that his words must have meaning
Firstly, for himself then to others.
When a challenge presented itself
He thought hard about the task,
Learning over time that within him there were voices
Voices he needed to listen to
And when he did, with satisfaction
He awaited the reactions of others.
Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2017/09/15/reenas-exploration-challenge-week-4/
This week’s first line: “Well, I didn’t want tea anyway.”
Her statement was accompanied by the pouring of the tea down the sink. We had argued again. It wasn’t uncommon for us to argue these days. It seemed like one thing after another triggered disagreement.
She had long complained that I didn’t pay her enough attention. I didn’t like her criticism and made every effort to meet her at least half way.
I did things for her, fetched and waited on her hand and foot. But that was never enough.
When I tried to be physically attentive to her she’d ask why I was doing that and why couldn’t I be attentive all the time.
Living with her was hard work. Nothing was ever right. No gift was received with any sort of gratitude but more with claims it wasn’t big enough or didn’t I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t like that or it wasn’t her colour.
So, I sacrificed more and more of my time to her. I cooked and served her dinner when she came home late. She liked to stay back at work and get her preparation done the next day.
I never liked the meals bit as they were often fraught with danger, I hated cleaning the floor after she’d thrown her dinner there in disgust at what I had prepared.
She wanted to go on a holiday so we chose the place she most fancied and off we went. But that proved problematical as well. She rejected my advances saying why would I be romantic on holiday and not at home, and it turned out she disliked the place after the first day. There were too many flies during the day and mosquitos at night.
Getting home was such a relief.
Then the final straw came when she fell ill and I nursed her, called the doctor, tended to her medical needs and sat up the first night with her as she threw up every forty minutes for the entire night.
In the morning, she felt better and I made her breakfast which she turned her nose up at before screaming at me when I poured her some tea: “Well, I didn’t want tea anyway.”
Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/09/15/first-line-friday-september-15th-2017/
The teacher, Mr Bashyaup, looked down his large roman nose and announced as if a fact of life that my son was a scatterbrain.
He informed me in no uncertain terms that my son’s mind was scattered to the four winds and never on the task at hand.
Having made his proclamation, he sat back as if to say now was my turn to speak.
What he told me didn’t come as a surprise to me. I knew what my son was like, after all up till school and in the time after school, it was me who had to tolerate his behaviours.
So, I asked him what he was doing about it?
This seemed to flummox him. I think he expected me to defend my son not agree with him.
To this teacher, the fact he could speak to my son’s behaviour was all he thought he needed to do in this interview and to intimidate me by his authoritarian manner. That I asked him to explain what he might do to address my son’s issues completely threw him.
Up until that time I knew his first and only strategy was to exclude my son from the classroom arguing he was an impediment to other children learning. Removal from the room suited my boy, the opportunity to sit somewhere quietly and day dream was perfect for him, and he loved it. But he wasn’t learning anything other than what behaviours he needed to exhibit to get what he wanted.
I explained to the teacher that exclusion was not a punishment but a reward for my son who knew how to press his buttons and get what he wanted.
It was at this point the teacher excused himself and disappeared from the interview room. A little later my friend Horace Wheller, the School Principal appeared at the door.
“Worked perfectly,” he announced, “that bird brain teacher has resigned. I knew if someone challenged him to change his ways he’d be out the door. Well done old mate and you can tell your son he needs to get back to learning like everyone else. Our little game is over.”
Written for: https://scvincent.com/2017/09/14/thursday-photo-prompt-scattered-writephoto/
Morpethroad 