Tale Weaver #78 July 28th – Waiting Part Two

Posted on July 29, 2016 by Michael

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Image © Mara Eastern Used with permission

Weave a tale that involves the concept of waiting. We do a lot of waiting in our lives, in queues, at train or bus stops, waiting for loved ones to arrive etc….

The next morning at 6.25 I’m back here again.

Mum has my lunch in my backpack. She’s put in a bit extra after hearing about my day yesterday. But today I’m not going to be taken for a sucker. He’s got till 10.30 to show up or I’m going home and start looking for a new job.

Again the morning passes me, the interested and the disinterested going to jobs they either love or despise. I seem to see more of the unhappy than happy today. Maybe because it’s a Tuesday? Tuesdays can be like that…a source of unhappiness as the weekend drifts away behind you and the next one seems so many days away.

A mother and daughter walk past hurrying for the 9.45 train. I hear her call to her daughter to hurry up, that dawdling wont make the day go by any faster. The daughter passes me with a look of resignation and I wonder what happened in their kitchen that morning that has her looking so sad.

10.25 a car stops in front of me. A window rolls down and a voice in the darkness says my name. The door opens and I step inside. I see shapes in the light, it’s a poor light and the shapes don’t seem to be so welcoming.

A hand thrusts a bottle of water into my hand and I’m asked my name.

“Jason,” I reply.

Another voice on my left asks if I really did wait there all day yesterday.

“Yes,” I answer

Then I hear a third voice this voice comes with authority and I listen closely as the voice details their reaction to waiting. It took a lot they say to stand there all day.

“I really want this job,” I say.

The authority voice says we’ll go eat first and the car stops and we all get out into a dark and dingy alleyway. They lead me into a café and we sit and food appears, drinks and as the morning goes on more food.

I still don’t know anyone’s name and nothing is said. It’s a bit like waiting all over only this time it comes with food.

Eventually the voice of authority says we’ve had enough and that its time to go.

“Can you start Monday?” he asks me.

“Certainly,” I say

“Good,” he says. “We’ll collect you from the same spot, 10.30am. Don’t make us wait will you.”

I go home relieved. The long wait was so worth it.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/07/28/tale-weaver-78-july-28th-waiting/

 

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Prompt Nights – In dreams we enter a world that’s entirely our own

Posted on July 29, 2016 by Michael

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I see you in my dreams

Its always you

In that one place

Where crowds are milling

You stand there

Eyes surveying the swarming masses

Looking for that tell tale smile

That saunter that will be me.

I see us holding hands disappearing

Into gardens, play and a whole new life.

 

Written for: http://www.adashofsunny.com/prompt-nights-in-dreams-we-enter-a-world-thats-entirely-our-own-23/

And

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/07/29/music-prompt-53-dreams-by-corrs/

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Tale Weaver #78 July 28th – Waiting

Posted on July 28, 2016 by Michael

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Image © Mara Eastern Used with permission

Weave a tale that involves the concept of waiting. We do a lot of waiting in our lives, in queues, at train or bus stops, waiting for loved ones to arrive etc….

6.25am he said to be here for my pick up.

So I was here, waiting.

I’ve been waiting since then. The city moves past me and does nothing to acknowledge me as a participant in the modern life of a thriving metropolis.

The workers on the early trains and buses, the rush to get from one stop to another, their iridescent shirts betraying their worker status.

A little later the business office people in suits and carrying attaché cases all troop past. So many with heads cast down their thoughts far from the drudgery of the office.

Still I wait, rugged against the cold, my lunch in a brown paper bag safely stored in my rucksack out of the weather.

They said it would be to my advantage to be here early as he didn’t like to be kept waiting. But what of me. I don’t like it either.

I think of all the reasons for him not sowing up.

His car broke down.

He was home sick.

He was called away on another more important job.

He forgot about me.

That last one bothers me. I hate that I might be forgotten. It means I didn’t mean much in the first place. That I could be easily forgotten.

But I want this job. I want to impress. I need this job.

So I wait.

As the lunch hour approaches I eat my first sandwich. Corn meat with pickles. My mum likes to make sandwiches with pickles.

I sip on my bottle of water and as each person approaches me I look with expectation then with disappointment as they pass me by.

By 4pm I am getting very agitated. I’ve checked my phone through out the day for messages, but there’s nothing to say that any one cares.

I get a call eventually at 4.45pm. It’s him full of apologies. Promising tomorrow to collect me. Says he is impressed I waited all day.

Can I be there again tomorrow?

I wonder that myself!

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/07/28/tale-weaver-78-july-28th-waiting/

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Word-High July: Kinaadman

Posted on July 24, 2016 by Michael

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Youthful ignorance abounds

The boy makes yet another error of judgement.

Years of study, reading and writing

The wisdom of age surfaces

Common sense makes sense

Mistakes are now understood

He relaxes into his wiser self.

 

Written for: https://areadingwritr.wordpress.com/2016/07/25/word-high-july-kinaadman/

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Word-High July: Dalisay

Posted on July 24, 2016 by Michael

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I awoke to feel your love wash over me.

It flows freely from the place in your heart

Where comfort and nurture abounds.

Your warmth succors me on this day

As I seek an inner peace.

 

Written for: https://areadingwritr.wordpress.com/2016/07/24/word-high-july-dalisay/

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SoCS July 23/16 – second

Posted on July 23, 2016 by Michael

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“Story of my life,” said the curly headed one second from my right.

“Mine too,” replied the second one from her.

“Pisses me off big time it does.” Said Red second from my left.

“Always the bridesmaid,” I said reflecting more on my own life than any other others.

“Yes second place every time,” answered Tank one up from Red.

“Makes us all losers doesn’t it?” I asked

“Absolutely in your case. Every second of every day you lag further behind,” replied Red trying to sound sympathetic.

“I had high hopes for my second marriage,” announced the curly headed one. “But the bastard saw me as a stepping stone to greater things and his second fling was the final straw.” I sensed for the second time that day that there was a tear about to roll down her cheek.

“Wait a second!” called the second one from her. “You had your own share of affairs, that second one with Randolph was as hot and steamy as anything I have heard of before.

“It’s true,” I added. “Hot and steamy, but only for a second wasn’t it.”

“Yes,” she replied. “Couldn’t maintain the sexual rage, seconds was all he could last. What was there after that, a second was all it took.”

“Think I’ll order a second coffee. Anyone else up for seconds?”

Within seconds hands shot up. It was the way when I offered to buy the second round.

 

 

 

Written for; https://lindaghill.com/2016/07/22/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-2316/

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Microfiction challenge #6:The child – Marcus

Posted on July 22, 2016 by Michael

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Image: Else Berg

“Don’t you ever think he might be lonely sitting there all day?” asked Ellie to her friend May.

May looked across at her son Marcus sitting in his play pen pulling on the ears of his fluffy rabbit.

“Goodness no,” replied May. “Marcus is only a baby and has everything in his pen to stimulate him and assist in his growth. He’s doing fine.”

May pulled another cup of tea as Ellie continued to look at the child who to her reckoning was frustrated and bored out of his mind.

“Why only last week, “continued May. “I was reading that over stimulating your kid can take away their independence and I would never want that of my child,” she said looking fondly at Marcus who continued to pull on the rabbit’s ears.

Marcus was not a demanding child. He rarely cried and he sat in his pen day in day out from whenever it was he first remembered anything. That was his world, is refuge where he felt safe. Even when you picked him up he was quiet for a few moments but soon started to pull towards the safety of his play pen.

His mother had stocked it with every imaginable soft toy. He was in so many ways the perfect baby. May would brag to anyone who’d listen about her child who was no trouble, ate what was fed to him and slept through the night.

Ellie had seen enough of May and Marcus in action to fear that at a young age Marcus was already institutionalized.  He was for the most part left to his own devices. May didn’t chat with him as she’d argue he found his own level of stimulation within the play pen.

May of course loved the child she had created. It allowed her to pursue her own likes and desires. The television was always on and Marcus could see the images across the room. When May watched her soaps so did Marcus. What May was never aware of was that Marcus took everything in.

Ellie was very aware that Marcus was a smart child. She could see in his eyes that he craved more than he was given but when she spoke with him May would often cut her off if Marcus looked half interested. The little boy would look away and once again pull on his rabbit’s ears.

 

Written for: https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/2016/07/22/microfiction-challenge-6the-child/

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Word-High July: Likha

Posted on July 22, 2016 by Michael

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It was the urge to create something different

Words on a page that both sang and danced.

Collaboration, workshopping,

More words, more talk

A song that spoke, words that sang.

An audience who cheered,

When empathy touched them,

Because the impossible became reality.

 

Written for: https://areadingwritr.wordpress.com/2016/07/23/word-high-july-likha/

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Word-High July: Makisig

Posted on July 22, 2016 by Michael

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I spied you across a room

Of jumbled words

A few crude rhymes

A moment of tentativeness

Stammered lyrics of intent

As the fog of language cleared

A beautiful girl appeared

Forever enshrined in humble verse.

 

Written for: https://areadingwritr.wordpress.com/2016/07/22/word-high-july-makisig/

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Tale Weaver Fairy Tale #77 July 21st – The Ugly Duckling

Posted on July 22, 2016 by Michael

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Amy was the youngest and the runt of the litter so her siblings said about her.

Born ten years after her older sister she was an unexpected addition to the family and not a welcomed one. Her parents weren’t happy to discover another baby on the way, her brothers and sisters were not impressed with another infant in the house after all they argued surely six kids was enough.

Amy had flaming red hair, was a dumpy kid with her bum far too close to the ground. She soon attracted the nick name of Leadbum amongst her sisters. The older ones basically ignored her but Amy wasn’t one to take very kindly to being ignored and she was a demanding child.

So she grew up being irritating, loud and untidy. She was unfortunately clumsy and was forever dropping things and making a mess.

When she was eleven her parents fed up with this obnoxious child making every one’s life a misery sent her off to boarding school. “Good riddance,” said her sisters as the train taking her away pulled out of the station.

Amy’s going to boarding school meant the household returned to ‘normal’. People got on with their lives now free of the irritation of a little sister. Amy’s parents paid extra to have Amy stay at boarding school during the holidays so it was several years before she ventured home.

When it was announced that Amy would be coming home as her schooling was now complete the older sisters all gathered together to plan an unwelcome home for her. They didn’t want their obnoxious little sister back, they liked the self-centred lives they now lived.

So having all agreed to give her the coldest of returns they accompanied their parents to the train station to greet their sister.

Standing on the station in the winter cold didn’t do anything to their resolve of making Amy feel unwelcomed. They even made a sign ‘WELCOME HOME LEADBUM’.

In a cloud of steam, the train arrived at the platform and the family awaited the arrived of their sister and daughter.

When the steam cleared there was no little flaming red head on the platform. The family were at first alarmed and then pleased in thinking maybe Amy had decided not to return home.

But along the platform glided a serenely beautiful young woman, her hair tied back, her dress and demeanor suggesting class and refinement.

As she approached a smile broke out across her lips.

“Mother? Father?” she announced.

Amy’s mother couldn’t believe her eyes as her once dumpy daughter was now this elegant and stunningly beautiful young lady. Her sisters realizing a transformation beyond belief had occurred took a step back and watched as this very well spoken girl regaled the family with stories of her years at boarding school.

Over dinner that night Amy was asked if she had any resentment at being sent away to school and not being able to return until now.

“No,”she replied, “School taught me about being me. It made me face the person I was and gave me opportunity to be the best I could be. So I did just that, I worked hard and I was honest with myself in that I listened to my teachers who taught me not only academia but how to be gracious and humble, how to relate to others and accept every one for who they are.”

Looking around the table she looked at each of her sisters and said very calmly: “I could never have achieved that living her with you bitches, could I.”

The next day Amy announced that a University in Paris had accepted her for a medical degree and she would be leaving that afternoon.

Once again the family watched their youngest daughter and sibling go away on the train only this time and still in shock at seeing her they were all silent wondering what they were to miss out on from this beautiful girl going out to do what none of them had the courage to do, take on the world.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/07/21/tale-weaver-fairy-tale-77-july-21st-the-ugly-duckling/

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