100 Word Flash Fiction Challenge #23 – Victory

Posted on June 21, 2020 by Michael

It came at a most opportune time. This time he didn’t add to his rejection drawer but rather placed the acceptance letter on the fridge to remind himself that success was possible.

He didn’t think his story was all that good, but his opinion of his writing had often been just that, his opinion.

This time his work would appear in an anthology of local writers and he was thrilled to have been chosen.

He ordered ten copies, in advance, knowing his mum would share in his excitement. He slept soundly that night, his mind at last at peace.

Written for: https://mmastorytime.com/2020/06/14/100-word-flash-fiction-challenge-23/

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Sunday Writing Prompt “Dark Night of the Soul”

Posted on June 21, 2020 by Michael

It came after a period of profound disturbance.

For days he had been in a stupor in which he felt himself moving closer and closer to the abyss.

To him it appeared to be the only alternative.

The question was how to get there.

The train had rushed by before he had the strength to jump.

The rope he couldn’t get fixed and strong enough.

The pills had made him sick and he spent the night throwing up.

The voices inside his head kept on telling him to grow a pair and get on with it because until he acted he would continue to wallow in self-doubt.

Cleansing was the word they used. Cleanse your inner self, your soul is tainted with the stain of living, you’d be doing everyone a favour if you sunk into oblivion.

Over the years he’d heard the expression, ‘greater good’, a ‘higher good’. He wasn’t sure what it actually meant, he questioned how death would in any way result in any sort of good for him as he imagined his actions were not going to achieve entry into some glorious after life.

Was there even an after life or would everything just go black?

The voices never made any reference to an after life. They wanted action. They hated the indecisiveness of his dithering. “Its not hard he heard them say.”

But dilly-dallying was what he did. His life had been one indecisive moment after another.

Did his life matter? Would anyone miss him?

How many times had he been told he was a waste of space?

He resolved to give it another go. Living was about mental torment but it was also not such a bad place to be, there was the red haired girl on the corner who ignored him most of the time but who did smile at him once and recognition was hard to come by he told himself. Plus there was the lake and the bush, the birds and the cacophony of sound associated with nature. He didn’t understand any of it but he knew his environment was important.

This wasn’t his first time to resolve to let go of the things he thought were preventing him living. Somewhere inside of him there was a person capable of existing without the pain and anguish he felt so much of the time.

Just get out of bed, have breakfast, and see what happens!

It can’t be as bad as yesterday!

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/06/20/sunday-writing-prompt-dark-night-of-the-soul/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #84 – Crisp and Fishing.

Posted on June 20, 2020 by Michael


 Crisp, my aged companion, stared at the fishing boats and the memories began circulating in her mind.
“My dad learned to fish from his Uncle Jess,” she said, “ he lived down the coast, and my dad when he was a kid would holiday there. Jess was a professional fisherman, and if he did one thing for my dad, it was to teach him to exaggerate. Dad learned to art of telling us kids as we grew up about the big one’s that got away.
When I was old enough, he’d take me out fishing with him. After two boring afternoons, I realised I’d rather gnaw my arm off than sit in a boat bobbing about hoping something would happen. Dad saw me as a disappointment, but, my brother Phil loved fishing and shared dad’s enthusiasm.”
She paused a moment before saying: “I feel like a meat pie for lunch.”
 
Written for: https://crispinakemp.com/2020/06/17/crimsons-creative-challenge-84/
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Tale Weaver – #280 – Tickets – June18th.

Posted on June 18, 2020 by Michael
IMG_0409

Jimmy burst through the back door holding the ticket aloft in his hand.

“Mum, I got it, I’ve got us a ticket,” he announced triumphantly.

“Oh you are a clever boy, now let’s hope it’s a winner shall we?” said his mum feasting her eyes on the prized ticket.

“We’re gonna win mum, I know we are.”

“It would be nice Jimmy but we mustn’t jump the gun. There will be a lot of other people all hoping just like us.”

“If we win mum what would you do with it? It’s a lot of money if we win.”

“I’m sure we’d think of a few things,” said his mother her mind already racing towards making decisions she never imagined she’d have to make. Oh to pay a few bills, to ease the burden financially on the household would be such a bonus and get the family away from the hand to mouth existence they currently experienced.

“You know what I’d do mum?” said Jimmy

“What dear, what would you do?”

“I’d buy you a bread maker so you wouldn’t have to get up at dawn each day and knead the dough. I always feel you are going to wear out your arms you put so much effort into it.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you Jimmy but making the bread each day is what I’ve always done, it’s a part of my routine. But I’ve seen those bread makers and it would make a difference but I wonder if it made bread as well as I do?”

“The other thing I’d do I buy us a new car,” said Jimmy.

“That would be nice too but old Blossom is still getting us there and back you know. She’d be hard to part with.”

And so the conversation went on. The ticket was by now attached to the door of the refrigerator on show for all the family to see, their one big chance to strike it lucky.

The ticket stayed there after the draw. A reminder of what might have been. Their number not even close to the ticket number that won.

As their mother reminded them, it was nice to dream and plan, if just for a little bit and having a ticket gave them that opportunity for a touch of excitement in their lives.  

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/06/18/tale-weaver-280-tickets-june-18th/

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Photo Challenge #320 – Uncle Phil Songwriter.

Posted on June 17, 2020 by Michael

It was weeks after Uncle Phil died before anyone in the family decided to go and tidy up his place.

He’d been a lonely solitary man and we knew the task was going to be a big one, as Phil wasn’t known for his house keeping skills.

Sure enough when we opened his house the mess, was all around us. Apart from the unwashed plates there were papers everywhere and his dining room table was littered with bits of paper on which he scribbled what we at first thought were his rambling thoughts but what turned out to be song lyrics.

Who’d a thought Uncle Phil was a songwriter?

In the drawer on his desk we found a box a cassette tapes dating back to the 1960s.

There were about twenty such cassettes labelled with the year and to who he had sent them. 1974 – Sunnyvale Music, 1982 – Gordanton Music Makers and so on.

On each cassette was the crude recording of his songs.

We sat and listened to them, his rough scratchy voice wavering from note to note, some ballads addressed to who know who, a lot of the songs protesting matters topical at the time and some he was obviously in a good mood about as he often giggled as he recorded over something he thought humorous at the time.

To the best of our knowledge he never sold any of his songs but he didn’t appear deterred by that and left a record of his writing in song form.

We bundled up the cassettes and decided one of us would keep them safe as they were a record of Uncle Phil’s life and as he clearly treasured them we needed to do all we could to preserve them.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/06/16/photo-challenge-320/

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What do you see # 34- 15 June 2020 – The Moth Harvest

Posted on June 15, 2020 by Michael



The nets had been cast and the people of the fungus waited patiently for the moths to arrive.
It was an annual event, the moth harvest. The catch would provide the community with enough protein to last them through the coming winter.
The sat in small huddles beneath the toadstools that littered the landscape. Some sat and twiddled their thumbs, one group had a serious card game in progress and another consisting of the elders retold stories of past harvests to anyone who was interested to listen.
Once the rumble of the approaching moths was heard, the tell-tale hum their wings made as they made their way towards the toadstools from which they drew the sustenance they needed, it became of matter of all hands on deck.
Stealth was needed, you couldn’t raise the nets too early or you’d spook the moths and they’d fly off, you had to wait until they had settled and then strike.
Once the nets were launched it was organised chaos. Shouting took over, orders were barked, and the strongest were employed to sedate the moths, as they were needed alive.
By the time order was restored they had secured a bag of moths, the writhing creatures resigned to their fate, the fungus people licked their lips in anticipation of the coming feast.
It was a triumphant return to their village, their women had the pots boiling, the herbs and mushrooms necessary to take away the astringent taste of the moths well prepared and ready to be shared along with the moths.
The end result was the drugged fungus people sleeping contentedly well into the next day.
 
 
Written for: https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2020/06/15/what-do-you-see-34-15-june-2020/
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Sunday Writing Prompt “Guardian”

Posted on June 14, 2020 by Michael

Cyril Rum, angel on sabbatical, was just finishing his morning meditation when there was a serious knock on his door.

He didn’t like having his meditation disturbed and was irritated that it had been so.

At his front door he found his neighbour, Mildred Thrupp, looking agitated and clearly upset.

Mildred was the only earthly person Cyril considered a friend and in the time he had lived next door to her she had proved to be a great source of education about the human condition.

They had enjoyed long conversations in his back yard over a cuppa or two. Cyril has revealed his angelic state to her, in all confidence, and Mildred found that once away from Cyril she kept reminding herself that there was something she wanted to tell her girlfriends but could never remember what it was.

Upon asking the reason for Mildred’s agitated state she gushed out the reason.

She has received a letter from a land developer wanting to buy her house, as they wanted to build a high rise. Mildred was feeling highly pressured. She liked living where she did. She also knew other people in the street has received similar letters.

“I need a guardian angel Cyril, are you one of those?” she asked.

“Well no,” replied Cyril, “ guardian angels are specialist angels trained in the art of being a guardian angel. It’s not a job for everyone you know,” he added.

“But what am I going to do, they want to take my house and I’m surprised they haven’t pressured you too.”

“Well you see they can’t pressure me. For one thing I don’t really exist to them. They don’t see me, if I choose for them not to.”

“They are threatening to bring in the bulldozers next week. Their ultimatum is move out or we’ll cart you out.”

By now Mildred had worked her way into quite a frenzy.

“I don’t want to move away from you Cyril. Where would I go?”

“I don’t think you have much to worry about,” said Cyril and Mildred noticed a spark in his eye, one she had seen before when Cyril had become involved in what seemed to be an impossible situation.

The next day Mildred was visited by a company representative who told her the company was not going to require her house as they had made plans to build on vacant land on the other side of town. The man was very pleasant even remarking that she must have had a guardian angel looking out for her.

That afternoon Mildred arrived at Cyril’s door with a freshly made sponge cake to say thanks and share some quality time with her angelic friend.

“I visited the boss of the company,” said Cyril accepting a second slice of Mildred’s cake, “and made a few well thought out suggestions about building a high rise in this street. I’m glad he agreed with me.”

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/06/14/sunday-writing-prompt-guardian/

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Reena’s Exploration Challenge #139 – Quarantined Thoughts

Posted on June 13, 2020 by Michael

 

 It’s been a challenging time in many ways. Being at home, for me, isn’t all that different to the time before quarantine.

My anxiety at going to the shops has increased. There was the initial fear of contracting the virus, an additional worry when I considered I was one of the people ‘most at risk’.

But so far, so good. Though they do talk about a second wave and therefore I feel I need to be as vigilant as ever.

I did miss the going to breakfast, lunch and dinner. Though that was aided by the cafes being closed and so there wasn’t much alternative. I cook a lot anyway so that just meant cooking more.

I did find it intriguing watching people adapted to staying at home. One friend posted a theme in their house for each day and that was entertaining in itself as they went to a lot of trouble to keep themselves occupied. There were people who dressed up to put out their garbage bins with some extending that idea to bring in of the bins.

We did a big clean-up of the shed. When I hired a skip to throw all our rubbish in, the guy I hired from told me he was booked up for the next several weeks as people were home doing what I was doing and cleaning up their places.

I managed to get a lot of reading done and like all books you pick up some were better than others.

I did manage to pick up a savage stomach bug during this time as well and that laid me low for about ten days. Thankfully it wasn’t the virus but it was nasty in its own particular way.

So my quarantine time was/is as I’ve stated above. Thank goodness for blogging.

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2020/06/11/reenas-exploration-challenge-139/

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100 Word Flash Fiction Challenge #22 The Lights Went Out.

Posted on June 12, 2020 by Michael


Lights
 
The lights had gone out but he couldn’t figure out why.
He felt himself rolling about in the darkness, which was odd in itself, as he didn’t like the dark. He tended at night to stay under his blankets, try to sleep and await the dawn.
He was sure at one stage someone was shaking him but he couldn’t he sure if it was just his imagination or not.
He felt a sense of desperation coming over him. Panic was not far away. He willed himself to wake up.
Suddenly the lights were on. He relaxed. His immediate surrounds familiar.
 
 
Written for: https://mmastorytime.com/2020/06/07/100-word-flash-fiction-challenge-22/
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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #83 – Childhood Memories.

Posted on June 12, 2020 by Michael


Crisp, my aged companion, thought the horse closest to us looked like Old Ned, the horse her grandfather had and the one who gave her the most grief when she visited as a child.
“We’d go down to his farm each Christmas. Mum insisted we visit and Grandad loved having us there. He’d have us up at the crack of dawn, which in those days was around 4.30am. ‘Come on,’ he’d say, ‘there’s lots to do and Ned wants to see you.’
So we dragged ourselves out of bed dreading what cantankerousness Ned was going to display. Grandad gave me a handful of hay to feed Ned and when I went close to him, holding out the hay he head-butted me sending me flying across the barn floor. Grandad thought it hilarious, but I didn’t, and I refused to go near Ned again. Which I think suited Ned as he didn’t like kids only Grandads.”
 
 
Written for: https://crispinakemp.com/2020/06/10/crimsons-creative-challenge-83/
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