Wordle Special Addition Sight “August 15th, 2016” Coffee With Cyril Rum

Posted on August 15, 2016 by Michael

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This week’s words: Frail Hound’s Tooth (a pattern of broken or jagged checks, used on a variety of fabrics.) Indistinct Blotchy Iridescent Titian (a reddish-brown or golden-brown color) Deformed Glisten Ashen Towering Matte (having a dull or lusterless surface) Pellucid (clear, limpid, translucent) Cylindrical Sag Unkempt

 

 

Cyril Rum looked up from his breakfast and decided it was a day for a walk. He didn’t get out much, kept to himself for fairly obvious reasons as he was an angel taking time out from angelic duties to find his mojo so to speak.

He had moved into the most unkempt house in the street and had settled in well making nodding acquaintances with most of his neighbours. He was not a young man, as it was he had been around for all of eternity and so in his now aging divinity had developed a blotchy appearance but Cyril was never one for appearances.

Sporting his favourite hounds tooth coat he prepared for his walk around the neighbourhood, anticipating a stop at Maggie’s Sag and Tag Café for a coffee to break his walk. Cyril liked Maggie, a titian haired beauty who always smiled whenever he entered her cafe

Maggie made good coffee, not the pellucid stuff the only other café sold. Cyril liked his coffee strong and with character and Maggie’s brew satisfied his every need.

Maggie’s frail mother usually sat in the corner of the café and Cyril would always ask after her. The mother had a deformed hand from an industrial accident some years before. She sat in the corner with eyes that glistened if you approached her and Cyril knew that this old lady felt embarrassed by her present condition her ashen expression said so much that she wished she could be rid of her mortal life.

Today Cyril went and sat with the mother. She looked at him and noticed that Cyril had a way of making himself appear indistinct when in actual fact his presence towered over you. When he wanted to Cyril could give the impression if iridescence when if you saw him in the street he was not noticed at his matte features worked so well as to not draw attention to himself.

Their conversation was deep and intense, Cyril found himself drinking several of Maggie’s coffees as he and the mother engaged in earnest conversation. He left her and pressed into her deformed hand a small cylindrical container. It contained nothing but the container warmed inside her hand giving her a feeling well being.

Cyril returned home and went outside into his back yard where he sat in one of the two chairs he had out there and looked at the second chair. Nothing much happened save for Cyril’s occasional nodding in the chairs direction.

Maggie couldn’t believe it the next day when her mother, far from frail and far beyond deformed, approached her daughter to help in the café.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/08/15/wordle-special-addition-sight-august-15th-2016/

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Moral Mondays: “When your blood is boiling…” – Stevie

Posted on August 14, 2016 by Michael

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It made my blood boil to see Stevie. Aged three he no language apart from his screaming, zero social skills and no idea of love and affection.

I had said to his parents they needed to get some help with his development. They thought he was just slow and would soon catch up to his peers. But I kept thinking of him in ten years, when he may well be out of control, unable to cope, possibly in trouble with the law.

Meanwhile he sat in the corner, rocking to himself and the clock on the wall ticked another minute.

 

Written for: https://moralmondays.wordpress.com/2016/08/14/moral-mondays-when-your-blood-is-boiling/

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SoCS August 13/16 – cash

Posted on August 13, 2016 by Michael

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The sell was hard, convincing and thoroughly effective. What was even more reassuring was the cash back promise should the potion not do as I was told it would.

So certain was I of the effectiveness of this potion and being cashed up I paid for six bottles of Never Fail Romance Winner.

I couldn’t wait to get home, get myself into my going out on the town best ever outfit, $45 cash at the Reject Cash and Carry Shop. It was a sure fire winner. Tight leg denim jeans, denim jacket and floral shirt would reel the girls in no risk at all and with the Never Fail Romance potion splashed over my still growing and at times awkward pimply looking body I would be holding auditions by nights end to see who the lucky girl was to come home with me.

With plenty of cash in my pocket, enough to set the night a blaze with a few bar shouts well within my nightly budget I set off.

I walked into the Trendy Dresser Night Club confident I was going to cash in tonight well and truly.

It came as a huge shock and disappointment to me to discover by nights end I had not been the chick magnet I imagined I might be. I went home dejected, alone and thoroughly discouraged. The bottle of Never Fail Romance potion I realised only worked on my brain me being gullible to believe it might work on others. I found my receipt and resolved to go back for my cash back promise.

Of course the next morning when I returned to the spot I had purchased the potion there was no one to be seen. I felt cashed out, duped and a right fool. In my pocket I felt the last of my cash, enough for the bus home. I resolved from that day on to keep my cash in my pocket.

 

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2016/08/12/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-1316/

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Microfiction challenge #9: Rainbow

Posted on August 13, 2016 by Michael

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It was the appearance of my fairy godmother that alerted me firstly to the fact I was delusional and in need of urgent help for the storm and all its ferociousness had obviously played havoc with my brain.

She stood at the front door, silver wand in hand, tapping her foot as if it was perfectly normal for a fairy godmother to appear at any old time of the day.

She was urging haste there was no doubt and kept looking out at the sky as if expecting something to arrive at any minute. Finally, she pointed her wand at me and I was beside her hurrying along down the path to the corner creek at the end of our street.

The creek was full to overflow and she grabbed my hand and in an instant we were on the opposite side hurrying along once again. She jabbed away in a language I couldn’t understand but very agitated and impatient I gathered.

She stood under the weeping willow and pointed her wand at the rainbow arching the sky. Then she pointed to where the rainbow touched the ground and I knew for reasons best known to herself that was where we were headed. Again we were off this time slopping our way through the fields which by now were running deep in water and the soft earth a thick mud into which we sank with every footstep.

Sighing to herself she touched my head with her wand and we were flying across the fields the end of the rainbow coming ever closer. At last we touched down and there in front of us was a silver box. With her wand she waved it at the box and the lid flew open revealing a treasure like I’d never seen before. I reached into the box to feel if it was real when I felt a resounding hit to my head.

I opened my eyes to find myself on the floor beside my bed. Damn I thought that was some dream as I picked myself up and crawled back in to bed.

The clock said it was almost five in the morning so I had another two hours before I was to wake up. I settled down into my bed, warm against the early cold thinking I must remember the dream as it would make a good story for the rainbow prompt I had seen the night before.

After the storm I thought, what a story I could tell. I was shifting into my sleep position when I felt something cold against my leg. I reached down and took hold of a round object which on seeing reminded me of the treasure I had seen in my dream. Coincidence I told myself as I drifted to sleep. Then I was awake and looking around my room….the coin was real.

 

Written for: https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/2016/08/12/microfiction-challenge-9-rainbow/

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Thursday Photo Prompt – Caged– #writephoto

Posted on August 12, 2016 by Michael

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My son rang and asked if I would pose for him for an art installation he was doing as part of the Medieval Art Week.

He said the installation would take him a week or two to organize and create but he needed an older man to be the model for his centre piece.

Being one to always support my son in his artistic endeavours I agreed without asking which aspect of the medieval he was referring to.

Imagine my surprise when arriving at his studio he said for me to get inside the cage he had hanging from the rafters. It was then that I asked him about the nature of his installation. He quickly informed me that his was going to be on medieval justice and looking around I saw he already created a set of stocks, a lashing triangle and hanging from the walls were various implements of torture he had created. I gulped as I stepped inside the metal cage. As it wasn’t my size height wise I had to bend my body to fit inside.

“Perfect,” he called as he set about sketching my bent body. It wasn’t long and the discomfort of having one’s body twisted into an abnormal shape began to tell.

“How much longer?” I asked as I could feel cramps beginning to develop.

“Are you feeling cramped? Uncomfortable?”

“Yes very much”

“Great!”

He was by now sketching furiously and at one stage came up close to me to capture the look of increasing pain on my face.

Finally, I was released and he was looking very happy with his efforts.

I asked the exact nature of his work.  He said he had been researching the nature of medieval punishment and wanted to make it as real as he could. My modeling, as he put it would go a long way to making his work look authentic as the elderly were often, from his reading, made an example of if they caused too much grief within the community. I said I was hoping he wasn’t going to use my face. He smiled and said I’d have to wait and see.

I couldn’t help but think as I drove home there would be a few people thinking me being strung up in a cage ten feet off the ground was where I should belong.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2016/08/11/thursday-photo-prompt-caged-writephoto/

 

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Tale Weaver #80 –August 11th Making Sense of Nonsense – Special Delivery Part Two

Posted on August 12, 2016 by Michael

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Miss Marble hurried through her house and out into the shed where her cauldrons all bubbled away in excited expectation.

Placing the Fine Fossimax on the bench she looked around and saw that each of the cauldrons was doing as it should. Turning her attention to the Fine Fossimax she was reminded of the extraordinary properties this fine powder contained.

She had discovered that added to a garden supplement and placed on her neighbour’s zucchinis it resulted in a harvest no one had expected. If her neighbor was not alert to the growth of her crop and harvested them when they were of an appropriate phallic size, there were circumstances where a block and tackle was required to lift the things such was there sudden growth.

Also Mr. and Mrs. Lackstones at No 21 had approached her for help with their ailing marriage. Mrs. Lackstones complaining that her husband no longer was interested in her. One tea-spoon of her Romance Reviver potion containing a sprinkle of Fine Fossimax and the Lackstones had more stones than they knew what to do with.

But today she was on a particularly difficult mission. Mr. Cleary at 25 Grimace Street had been widowed these past three years. He and Mrs. Cleary had been married over sixty years and her death had left him alone and so very lonely. At first he coped well and made a brave face when anyone asked how he was going. He worked to maintain his garden and was his usual generous and giving self to his neighours on either side.

I recent weeks his health had deteriorated and he now faced the prospect of a long and agonizing death as the disease he had would make him reliant on others, leave him incapacitated to perform the most basic of functions and Mr. Cleary being a proud man never wanted to be a burden to anyone. As it was his only daughter was away working and was unable to come and care for her father.

In recent times Miss Marble had grown to like Mr. Cleary and would spend at least one afternoon a week sitting on his veranda chatting about one thing and another. She liked the old man and loved to hear his stories but his last story about himself and his current battle had spurred her into action.

Miss Marble was a clever and courageous witch. She took no truck from anyone and would go out of her way to help her neighbours. Mr. Cleary presented her with a real problem. As good a witch as she was she had never been able to defeat death.

She remembered an old potion from her young days and went in search of it. She also knew she would need Fine Fossimax to make it as she needed it, hence the urgent request to Mr. Gumpsion. This potion wouldn’t cure Mr. Cleary but would make his transition to the next world a little easier than he might be expecting.

That afternoon she visited Mr. Cleary who by now was spending much of his day in his bed. A steady stream of well-meaning neighbours and Community Nurses came throughout the day to check in on him. He smiled as he saw Miss Marble come through the door. She did as she always did and sat and chatted with him. Only this time she explained her visit and why she had come. Mr. Cleary nodded and took her hand.

The next morning Miss Marble was awakened to the knock on her front door. It was Mr. Cleary’s neighbor saying they had found Mr. Cleary dead in his bed that morning. A peaceful release said the neighbor and Miss Marble nodded and closed the door saying her own private farewell to Mr. Cleary.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/08/11/tale-weaver-80-august-11th-making-sense-of-nonsense/

Part one of the story can be read here:

https://summerstommy.com/2016/08/11/tale-weaver-80-august-11th-making-sense-of-nonsense-special-delivery/

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Tale Weaver #80 –August 11th Making Sense of Nonsense – Special Delivery

Posted on August 11, 2016 by Michael

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“Dear Mr. Gumpsion,” read the note. “A kilo of your best Fine Fossimax. Please deliver without delay.” Signed Amy Marble. 46 Grimace Street.

Mr. Gumpsion looked again at the note. It had been a long time since he had heard from Miss Marble. For her to be ordering fossimax meant there was a problem of some dire urgency to be dealt with.

As it was he knew that orders from her did need to be treated as high priority. He had once been somewhat tardy in delivering her order which was not greeted with the usual smile and kindness but with a wrath he never knew Miss Marble to possess.

Fine Fossimax took time and labour to manufacture. It wasn’t easy. The raw materials were getting more and more scarce.  Mr. Gumpsion’s workers were having to go further and further a field where the quality wasn’t as good as that found in the local fossimax quarries.

He scratched his head and headed to his stock room to check on the available supplies. Fine Fossimax was super grade A stuff. He knew Miss Marble would know if he tried to send her a less than grade A fossimax.

He found he had enough to supply her with the kilo she required but it would be an all-night job to refine the fossimax into Fine Fossimax as Miss Marble demanded.

He flicked the switch and the giant refining machine sprang into action. He fed in the raw materials checking each amount for any signs of imperfection. The machine would grind, then refine, grind again and finally deliver the desired fossimax. It was a slow and time consuming process.

As the early morning light appeared in the eastern sky Mr. Gumpsion took the kilo of Fine Fossimax and held it to the light. It was pure beyond doubt.

Now he faced the prospect of delivery. Only he could deliver to Miss Marble as she had told him in no uncertain way in the past that only Fine Fossimax could be delivered from his hands as she trusted no other person. Miss Marble lived across the other side of town and Mr. Gumpsion set off on foot carrying his precious cargo.

As he walked through the early morning he wondered as he always did what it was that Miss Marble did with his Fine Fossimax. He knew that mixed with various other elements it was capable of producing great magic. Like curing the warts on the legs of elves inflicted with Swamp Wart malaise. Another time he’d heard she’d used it to help her neighbor grow bigger and better vegetables in her garden but he’d also heard they did get out of control and her zucchinis although the talk of the street, did end up in more compost bins than on dinner plates.

Fossimax was powerful stuff Mr. Gumpsion knew but Miss Marble was one witch who seemed to have control of its considerable power.

At last he reached Grimace Street and there at No 46 was Miss Marble standing on the veranda staring in his direction. As Mr. Gumpsion approached she took her wallet from her back pocket and had his money ready as he climbed the steps. She thanked him for the promptness of his delivery, held the bag of Fine Fossimax to the light and remarked it looked an excellent batch. Thanking him again she disappeared into her house.

Mr. Gumpsion was left standing on the veranda with a fist full of money and whole lot of questions he knew he’d never get to ask.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/08/11/tale-weaver-80-august-11th-making-sense-of-nonsense/

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FFfAW Challenge – Week of August 9, 2016 – Jake

Posted on August 9, 2016 by Michael

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On Jake’s tenth birthday his mum said it was time for him to play a team sport.

They joined him up with the local under twelve team. As Jake was the youngest and smallest he was relegated to goalkeeper. To Jake goalkeeper was the same as playing left right out. His team was so strong they dominated the game and the field.

In most games Jake would stand around doing nothing and the times he ventured out of goal his team mates would yell at him stay in his place.

That’s how it was until the final game when an opponent made a break and kicked the ball towards Jake. His team was ahead one nil and the full time whistle was about to sound when the boy sent in a kick that curved towards the goal. Jake flung himself to his left and brought off a miraculous save. He was suddenly a hero and was chaired from the field.

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2016/08/08/fffaw-challenge-week-of-august-9-2016/

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Haibun Monday: A Little Romance

Posted on August 9, 2016 by Michael

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His message says he is running late.

She looks at her watch wondering how long before she sees him. Outside the summer sun beats down, the hustle and bustle of the city is well underway as the commuters scurry to the comfort of their air conditioned work places.

Yesterday he said the L word. She’d been wanting to say it too and remembers thinking he might not want what she wants. It was the glow in his eye as he saw her reaction that led to a glorious afternoon. Right now there is that familiar tingle and an urge to see him, embrace him and take in all that he is. She thinks of the coming winter and how good it would be to be living with him. She smiles to herself in anticipation as she sees his head ascend the escalator.

 

summer lovers

loving you for who you are

being us always

 

Written for: https://dversepoets.com/2016/08/08/haibun-monday-a-little-romance/

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Wordle Special Addition Scent “August 8th, 2016” The Weekly Meeting

Posted on August 8, 2016 by Michael

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This week’s words to play with: Earthy Jasmine Sulfuric Exhaust Peppermint Acrid (sharp or biting to the taste or smell; bitterly pungent; irritating to the eyes, nose, etc.) Sudor (sweat) Musk Bouquet Incense Coffee Fetor (stench) Antiseptic Redolence (having a pleasant odor, reminiscent) Sunshine

 

Wayne and Greg the divine representatives of the Heavenly and the Hell-like were meeting in Hell’s Coffee Shop for their weekly meeting. They met in this particular café because without a doubt it sold the best coffee and when you were a divine entity the best was all you desired.

They had had discussions before about the virtues of their respective places of abode. Greg liked the earthy atmosphere of the Archangel Toasted Sandwich Emporium though its coffee was terrible, even the Angels avoided it when they could but it did make the best toasted sandwiches in all eternity. That along with the overwhelming aroma of Jasmine was enough for Wayne to come down with severe hay fever every time he acquiesced to meeting up there.

For Wayne the sulfuric vapors coming from the exhausts of hell’s fires was enough to settle him and make him lust for more. There was nothing better than the acrid smell of sulphur getting up your nose and finding a happy home amongst your smell senses to just make your day.

Greg on the other hand always carried a handkerchief laced with peppermint to ward off the acrid smells which did nothing for his delicate senses. It wasn’t long before Greg found himself and his person oozing sudoriferously from every pore of his angelic person. He hated sweating, he hated even more that when he returned to his heavenly cloud (in heaven one’s house/home was always referred to as one’s cloud) he would need to use bottles of antiseptic just to get the smell out of his wings which were very sensitive to the fetor of slime and repulsiveness that permeated the air.

To Wayne of course it was all very redolent, he all but basked in the bouquet of pungentness, to him it was as if an incense was clearing the air of evil unpleasant odours. For Wayne it was musk that he couldn’t stand. It got up his nose and was the perfect thing to spoil a good coffee. For some reason in heaven everywhere you went there was the smell of musk which he suspected was the heavenly bosses’ way of keeping Wayne and his like out of Heaven. And it worked perfectly.

And so the two heavenly divinities sat as they did so often under a sulfur cloud, enjoying the best coffee and the best sushi oblivious to the sunshine pouring down upon the earth outside, Greg holding his peppermint laced hanky to his nose between sips and Wayne breathing deeply thinking what a lucky angel he had been to find himself in such a desirous place.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/08/08/wordle-special-addition-scent-august-8th-2016/

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