Microfiction challenge #24: Moonlit night

Posted on November 27, 2016 by Michael

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Image: Iliya Repin

Lady Grace often walked out at night. On moonlit nights you’d see her walking towards the Manor brook her hound Felix by her side.

Lady Grace stood before the brook, her hands clenched as she looked into the gurgling stream. We knew where her mind was. He hadn’t returned as he’d promised. He had been a reliable man.

Felix would lie at her feet, he as puzzled as we all were wondering why his mistress entertained such troubling thoughts.

We were not allowed too close to her for fear of waking her. Her sleep walking was concerning. Occasionally she would call across the brook. His name would echo through the night, the silent response the most haunting of all.

Then she would gather her skirts and return along the same well worn path. It had been six months and all hope among the staff had dwindled to a lost hope.

In her room she would change into her sleep attire, lay down and sleep till morning. Felix asleep beside her bed. Staff would clean her boots of the mud from the brook and not a word was spoken to her of her nocturnal vigil.

Lady Grace often walked out at night. Called his name, waited, bowed her head to the inevitable, resigned to being alone one more day.

 

Written for: https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/2016/11/25/microfiction-challenge-24-moonlit-night/

 

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SoCS Nov. 26/16 – pretty

Posted on November 27, 2016 by Michael

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It was pretty clear that pretty soon trouble would eventuate and then there was no telling the pickle he would find himself in.

It was always a disappointment thinking of such things considering the pretty person he was in a very non-feminine non-pretty way.

Nature can be like that, produce what so many see as a pretty baby only to find that pretty well soon that pretty baby doesn’t turn out to be a pretty woman or in his case it turned the pretty into the ugly.

But as his mum used to say pretty is in the eye of the beholder and she had always beheld a pretty boy. You had to love his mum for her pretty well consistent optimism.

But as fate would have it his prettiness served pretty well much like a magnet. The bad found an ally in him, the ugly found a friend and pretty well soon he had attracted a flock around him of pretty well most of the undesirable non-pretties in town.

The irony of their gang name never failed to amuse me: “The Pretty Boys”. They even adopted a logo, a uniform with “The Pretty Boys” embroidered on the back and when riding the main street on their pretty motorbikes wearing their hot pink helmets they did cut a pretty fine sight. After all there weren’t many bikie gangs sporting a pretty pink denim jacket with their logo emblazoned beside a pretty pink rose.

 

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2016/11/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-2616/

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Finish off Fridays #2: James (25.11.16)

Posted on November 25, 2016 by Michael

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James was never seen again after setting off down the rutted, puddled road. He had packed a pair of undies and a clean handkerchief and announced he was never coming back. And he didn’t. Mum waited an hour for him to come back but he didn’t. She searched and then we all searched and then the whole community searched. Every hole in the district was investigated, every dodgy character questioned Mum even checked under his bed on numerous occasions. James had vanished into thin air.

Mum was devastated and never really got over what might have happened to James but each year on the anniversary of his disappearance she received a postcard from some overseas destination. Always it said: “I’m seeing the world as I said I would. Love to you all.”

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/11/25/finish-off-fridays-2-james-25-11-16/

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Thursday Photo Prompt – Mystery #writephoto

Posted on November 25, 2016 by Michael

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The most remarkable thing about the mystery of the hidden tomb was there was only one set of stairs leading to it and none leading away from it.

It puzzled many. Papers were written on it, conferences held, theories were espoused and conspiracies discussed.

Of course it made great sense that the stairs only led to the tomb. After all what conclusion was there to be drawn if there was another set leading away from it.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2016/11/24/thursday-photo-prompt-mystery-writephoto/

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Tale Weaver/Fairy Tale Prompt # 94 : Alien Fairy Tales 11.24.16

Posted on November 24, 2016 by Michael

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One thing that never surprised me was anything that happened at Miss Marble’s. Her interactions with the people in our street were well known, as was the order system that seemed to be endless from all corners of the country.

But every two years she received the strangest visitors of all.

Only I knew of them because they came across my house and landed in Miss Marble’s yard. The noise was hardly discernable just a buzz and a momentary interference with my TV reception. Miss Marble had in recent times invited me in and I always had a casserole ready for their dinner.

They were the Klators and they arrived on a biennial visit from a distant planet a little to the right of the Klatszr Constellation. The Klators were a family like every other family and this year they had an addition, a baby born several days before arriving so there was great excitement at Miss Marble’s as she loved babies especially ones with webbed feet and elongated brains.

The Klators came with a purpose. They delivered to Miss Marble galactic dust and she gave them two years supply of Marble Juice. Marble Juice was a special mixture she made for them and it had life giving qualities that if taken by humans resulted in several months in hospital and a lot of explaining as to how you happened to drink what the human authorities thought was distilled methylated spirits.

To the Kaltors Marble Juice sustained them through the periods of travel through hyperspace when the real possibility of attack from rogue civilizations was very real. There could be several months where they drifted though space with no possibility of landing for fear of attack and at those times Marble Juice was all they needed to keep their bodies and souls together.

Their visit to Miss Marble lasted a few hours as they enjoyed Miss Marble’s hospitality and she loved to hear of their adventures and places they visited. Klator senior, DZER, whom Miss Marble referred to as DZ was a most likeable fellow and loved to tell his tales in his strange high pitched whistling voice. His wife the delightful DZERA, known to Miss Marble as Mrs DZ, often brought with her a Klator version of a cake which Miss Marble loved as it sort of floated on her tongue a second or two before making a run for it down her throat and into her stomach where it did several laps of her intestine before expelling a gas which exited her body through her ears. It was always interesting watch Miss Marble eat Klator cake because the blue gas from her ears made you giggle as the gas puffed itself out of her head. Miss Marble would give a little jolt and shake her head saying that was delicious.

This year the new baby, DZERAAA, pronounced Daphne, was the centre of attention and as the Klators left Miss Marble gave the baby a small vial of liquid, its own small supply of Marble Juice. The Kaltors were ever so grateful and promised to be back same time in two earth years.

After they left Miss Marble gathered the bags of galactic dust they had delivered and dragged them to her secret locked safe for fear any government authority hear of her visitors and woe forbid the galactic dust fall into their hands as it could mean terrible things for so many. She was pleased she knew what to do with it as she locked it safely away.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/11/24/8925/

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Photo Challenge #140 – The Woman Who Carries the World

Posted on November 22, 2016 by Michael

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Image: – Slrlounge.com

There’s a woman I know

Carries the world with her.

Wherever she goes

She brings it along.

And they sit comfortably

Back to back, side by side.

If you stop her asking why

She draws from it,

A story, an anecdote, a tale often true

To pull you up, focus your attention

For she speaks to you.

Enthralled as you are

She’ll smile and ask for an opinion,

Did her tale resonate?

Leave you satisfied?

Or begging for more?

I like to sit with her

We enjoy the silence as much the chatter.

Sometimes we learn more

By being and saying nothing.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/11/22/photo-challenge-140/

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Wordle #130 “November 21st, 2016”

Posted on November 22, 2016 by Michael

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This week’s words: Remain Walrus Acedia (sloth, laziness or indifference in religious matters) Scrawl Rathskeller ((in Germany) the cellar of a town hall, often used as a beer hall or restaurant. A restaurant patterned on the German rathskeller, usually located below street level.) Cinder Pull Striking Clump Television Coil Antipodes (Places diametrically opposite each other on the globe. Those who dwell there.)

 

‘You must remain,’ said the note, ‘within the walls of the Walrus Arms for fear of something worse than death.’

I turned the grubby piece of paper over and looked at the acediac nature of the handwriting. Surely the work some illiterate. The scrawl all but indecipherable the paper stained with the droppings of beer, wine and spirits the sort of thing you’d experience in any Rathskeller where the towns cellar dwellers congregated and gloated over their lowly status.

More often than not a place littered with the cinders of the establishment above it and often a place where legs were pulled as the truth was liberally adhered to.

It was refreshingly striking to all and sundry when a clump of the best of the Rathskeller’s, a thoroughly disagreeable lot called the Rathskeller Sausage and Sauerkraut Five, were featured on television one night doing their thing which consisted of a form of singing called ‘coiling’ in which one member would begin and the other members when joining in would try and put off the singer beside them with singing of nothing in common with him or her. It was immensely popular in the antipodes, especially in the country Dyspepsia just below the Equator and a little to the left of Mylantria.

I settled back to enjoy the entertainment the rathskeller had to offer with the grubby piece of paper with the acediac writing as my place mat.

 

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/11/21/wordle-130-november-21st-2016/

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FFfAW Challenge – Week of November 22, 2016 – His Insipid Nature

Posted on November 22, 2016 by Michael

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She said she hated sunsets and pulled away when he tried to hold her hand.   He had an insipid nature that weighed heavily on her.

She tried to move away but the seat they shared didn’t allow for much more manoeuvring once they settled their butts upon its steel frame.

Then there was his endless inane chatter. Usually about his day, what he’d done, didn’t do, with whom he’d engaged and with whom he cemented what he called a meaningful dialogue.

She wondered if that meaningful dialogue sent those so called friends to the tip of insanity as she was feeling right now.

It was when he mentioned going to the nearby hamburger joint that she felt a sense of relief. As much as she didn’t need anything to eat more fatty than a lettuce leaf she acquiesced and lifted herself from the seat. With arms folded she followed him, regret heavy on her heart.

 

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2016/11/21/fffaw-challenge-week-of-november-22-2016/

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Writing Prompt #187 “Collage 34” – A Ritual of Love

Posted on November 20, 2016 by Michael

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The door creaked as we opened it,

The guest house came with reputation.

The journey through the rain forest,

the abandoned logging camps

was worth the numb bum from so much travel.

There was a charm, a quaintness

That feeling that we were the first in so long

Despite it being a hard to acquire stay.

The rustic charm grabbed you instantaneously

Like the magic of love at first sight.

But for all its external old world charm

Inside was all creature comfort.

The spa was for luxuriating in

Sipping the bubbles from the side of our glass

We played and laughed at our pretence.

You looked so beautiful,

It had been so long

Since we’d had time for us.

Outside the wonder of the forest

The birds and the unique flora

Captivated our attention

You snapped everything

Not wanting to leave any memory behind.

We awoke to a chorus of birds

Like us grateful of the morning sun

We stayed and played aware that around us

Nature participated in its own ritual of love.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/11/20/writing-prompt-187-collage-34/

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SoCS Nov. 19/16 – Yes

Posted on November 18, 2016 by Michael

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“You’re just a snivelling yes man aren’t you?” the old crone said disparagingly.

I stood before her my head bowed in humiliation. A humiliation compounded by my being before her and the village committee.

The crone looked down her curving beak of a nose and sneered in derision. “You couldn’t say no could you? You are just a snivelling snit. Get out of my sight.”

I looked up into her eyes to see the anger burning in her black eyes which sat uncomfortably on either side of her nose that I was sure stretched into infinity from where her eyes observed it.

As I left the room the humiliation continued as the assembled townsfolk began to chant “Yes man” over and over as I walked disgraced from the room.

It wouldn’t be easy to get over this. Shame isn’t something easy to step away from. I’d been subject to getting caught, my hands in the till, so to speak, and my friend Rufus was basking in his own feigned innocence as he hadn’t been caught but rather seen as the one who prevented me from getting away with my dastardly crime.

When he asked of course I said yes, who wouldn’t when he said it would be a piece of piss to get away with the strawberry crème cake. But now I was pissed off as he was away scot free and I had been shamed in front of all the village.

It’s hard to say no I thought as I trudged along the street towards home. People don’t like no. They like yes. Until that is it lands you in hot water like it did me. I have to be more resilient I thought. Say no. Consider the consequences. Well I told myself I had considered them. They all said yes!

I arrived home to find someone had sprayed “YES MAN” in red paint on my front door. Oh no I thought I’ll have to get out and clean it off. Further humiliation.

But first the root of all this trouble had to be dealt with. The strawberry crème cake awaited its disposal in my mouth. Yes, I though as I gulped down the last mouthful, it had been worth all the yeses.

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2016/11/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-1916/

 

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