Tale Weaver/ Fairy Tale Prompt #69 – Observations – Nasm

Posted on May 26, 2016 by Michael

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Image © Mara Eastern (Used with permission)

The notion of fairies in the garden has always fascinated me. That they exist in some other dimension to us.

Ever have that feeling that out of the corner of your eye you saw a movement, a shadow, a person, shape or thing?

This month’s fairy tale is asking you to consider what if the fairies did exist in your garden what might they see through your kitchen window, what observations might they make of you and your behaviours.

How might you react if you looked out your window and like the image above and noticed an eye looking at you?

When I bought my house the mosaic wall was a selling feature they told me. Unique construction had been in place a long time and it marked the end of the house on the western side of the property with the fern garden tucked into the quiet corner.

This garden was sheltered and the ferns loved it. They grew profusely and within it the fairy community thrived. My job had always been the protection of them and each time I ventured into their world I met someone different. Like so much in life there was far more than met the eye.

It was one night when I was cleaning up after dinner that I first noticed the eye in the wall. I knew it hadn’t been there before as I was an admirer of the wall marvelling at how the tiles had been so arranged to give that mottled appearance. I was wiping down the benches when in the corner of my eye I saw the eye. It was in the space of a second that it was there.

I saw it a few more times before I stopped and stared at the space I saw it in. I walked close and looked into the wall. An eye met mine. I placed my hand against the tiles and felt the warmth of a hand opposite.

Then I felt myself drawn through to the other side. I had learned over the years that when you entered the fairy world it was best to let it happen. On the other side through the pale light I saw her.

Her name was Nasm…she was an Observer fairy. These were a fairy who observed and reported back to the Fairy King what they saw and whether or not it would benefit the fairy world.

Nasm was the same height as me and the most stunningly beautiful fairy I had ever seen. She laid her hands on me and I was instantly under her spell.

She lay me down in the middle of the giant birds nest fern and began what I can only say was the most erotic experience I have ever had. With the wave of her hands I was naked. I could hear in my head her reassuring words that I had nothing to fear that I should lay back and let her pleasure me.

Under her spell I could do nothing but allow her to have her way. Her hands found pleasure within me I never knew existed, from my head to my toes. Once she knew I was relaxed her tongue, which at first frightened me, took over and it was as if she had another arm as it wrapped round me, titillating and stimulating.

The more I gasped in pleasure the more intense it became. It was like my body was being whipped into a frenzy that begged for more until I cried out in ultimate pleasure. I relaxed knowing she had extracted my life force and now I experienced a never before euphoria.

When I opened my eyes she was standing over me, my clothes were back to where they belonged and she smiled and in my mind I heard her say thank you as she needed me to re-energise herself.

Then she was gone and the Fairy King stood in her place, smiling at me. Nasm he said was important to the fairy world and I had provided her with a life source she needed to tap into every fifty years.

In the back of my mind a voice said: “Fifty years? Drats!”

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/05/26/tale-weaver-fairy-tale-prompt-69-observations/

 

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#Maydays Prompt – Happiness in your flaws

Posted on May 25, 2016 by Michael

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Today’s #maydays prompt find happiness in your flaws.

His multitudinous flaws

Stood out like dogs balls.

It was a veritable litany of faults.

This marriage report read:

Failed husband

Failed lover

Failed parent.

His work report read:

Barely efficient

Barely contributed

Barely interested.

His social report read:

Socially inept

Socially crippled

Socially isolated.

Every flaw and fault was eagerly reported on

His lovers and partners quick to point out

The many errors he made daily

That he could be a better man

Once he shed the pathetic self he clung to.

But he didn’t, he was as he said

“The sum of all my parts.”

He withdrew into himself

Lived in splendid isolation

Only himself to satisfy.

But he still hangs out hope

Someone would see him for what he is,

Not a pariah to be avoided

But a man, unique, flawed

And so very lovable.

 

Written for: https://new2writing.wordpress.com/2016/05/25/maydays-prompt-happiness-in-your-flaws/

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#Maydays Prompt – Journey

Posted on May 24, 2016 by Michael

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Today’s prompt is about a journey. Physical, Spiritual and /or Emotional

Crawford breathed his last and around him there was a sigh of relief. He wasn’t very well liked in life and now he was gone everyone was pleased the ordeal of Crawford was over.

Crawford however looked around there at the end of the bed was a small man in a bowler hat holding a very impressive looking staff.

The little man introduced himself as Death and suggested Crawford get a move on as he had a busy day and there was no time for dilly-dallying.

Death had a habit of looking at his watch a lot. It was a tough gig being Death. After all not everyone died at an appointed time, people had a tendency to drop off at any old hour.

He always thought creating limbo was an excellent idea, his version of a waiting room for those times when he couldn’t be there at the time someone passed beyond life.

Now though he had to get Crawford to the Door and beyond that wasn’t his concern. Taking Crawford’s hand he started on the journey Crawford found instantly fascinating.

Crawford had been one of life’s great sceptics. Life after death didn’t exist he told anyone who listened and he was ready to enter the great void and be content his living had been ok, well ok by his standards, which thankfully were not everyone else’s.

Death was well aware of Crawford and his theories and inwardly delighted in being the bearer of bad news.

Their journey was windy, Crawford looked down as mountain ranges few past, rivers and volcanoes did as they do and at one point he was sure he caught sight of a dinosaur.

Death wasn’t much of a tour guide his mind on the coming days work. There would a natural disaster in the afternoon, which would necessitate him in organising a Death bus to carry all the souls afflicted on their respective journeys. The Death buses were a nightmare to organise. Not everyone of course had the same final destination so it was a real bother getting the itineraries right. The drivers were troubled souls conscripted into driving as a way of giving them some relief from the fires of hell and after all who wouldn’t jump at the prospect of your bits getting some respite from the singeing fires.

Soon they were going over rainforests and Death stopped at beautiful beach much like a tropical paradise you’d see on travel brochures.

Your destination announced Death, and bidding him farewell and good luck he left muttering something about drivers and their damn demands.

Crawford looked around and there in front of him was a sign:

“WELCOME DEAR SOUL, please follow the sand to the first door, knock politely and await instruction.”

It was a test Crawford was sure, as all around him was sand.

Then a small hand took his and in a flash he was before a large brown door marked, NEW ARRIVALS.

He knocked politely. The door opened he entered and in front of him another sigh: YOUR JOURNEY BEGINS HERE.

In front of him was a road that stretched into infinity…..

 

Written for: https://new2writing.wordpress.com/2016/05/24/maydays-prompt-journey/

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Photo Challenge #114 – We Wondered

Posted on May 24, 2016 by Michael

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Image: Adam Hague

 

Was it your scream I heard?

Was it in fear, in wonder?

A cry of disbelief?

A cry of rejoicing?

 

You said you sounded like a banshee

At your feet was a snake in the grass

Come to remind you of humble roots

Of less than gracious childhood times.

 

Did I arrive in time?

Was I too late, too soon?

Was it a matter of punctuation?

A matter of subject?

 

You said it was all about a teacher fantasy

Wanting to learn, listening and storing away

Each morsel of knowledge he sent your way

Of the why, the how more so than the what.

 

Was it a case of being courageous?

Did you mind standing up for you?

Did you start to believe?

Did you start to trust?

 

We watched a boy loving a girl

We watched a girl loving a boy

And we wondered….

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/05/24/photo-challenge-114/

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#Maydays Prompt – Friendship Transformation – Jason

Posted on May 23, 2016 by Michael

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Today’s #maydays prompt an enemy that becomes a friend (or vice versa for that matter). Capture that transformation.

 

All through my teenage years Jason and I had a rivalry we both acknowledged as unhealthy at times. We didn’t live near one another but on opposite ends of the district.

We were both squash players and most times when we played he won. His was a squash playing family and he had the advantage of coaching from his dad who had been a pretty fair player in his time.

When the district championship came around I knew that if I played well I would meet Jason in the final. When two sixteen year olds meet there is a lot at stake.

I knew I was in for a great game and I was determined to be competitive and at least give him a good game so if he won he’d knew he worked for it.

But this day everything was different. Every shot I played went where I intended it, every winner was a winner and before I knew it I had defeated him and won the championship trophy that year.

Jason was a sore loser and chucked a right royal tantrum after the game and any overture on my behalf was shrugged off by him.

This was how it was into our twenties when we met for the last time. I was not as fit by then as I’d been at sixteen, life had introduced too many distractions, one in particular Sally Jenkins whom I was head over heels in love with.

So this year the final saw us meet again. Jason and I had grown in tall strong men and our skill level was pretty high what with all the experience we had gained over the years.

But this year he powered over me. I didn’t get a look in and the game was quickly over.

We shook hands; he was very pleased with himself. After when we were in the showers I said to him that tonight was the last time I would be playing as my life was taking a new turn and I wanted to do something other than play squash.

He didn’t say anything at first but nodded as if saying I heard you.

Then as he was dressed he said he wasn’t playing anymore either. He had been diagnosed with cancer that week.

We sat in the change room, just the two of us for a long time and Jason cried as he told me of the battle he was about to face. His whole life had been turned upside down and he didn’t know what to do.

I said I would stay in touch and I did. From out of that fierce rivalry we had as kids developed a friendship that we both grew to treasure. I would visit him every time I came home and over time it became apparent that his battle would be lost.

It was Sally who urged me to visit him that last time. He looked terrible when I came into his room. He was so pleased to see me and we did what we always did, sat and talked, confided and guided.

He said to me that he was pleased we became friends that we spend so much time as kids competing against each other who would have thought we’d end up liking each other.

Jason held my hand as we talked, he’d taken to doing that the last few times I had visited him, like it was his way of hanging on to life and us.

Time never mattered when I visited Jason we just sat and talked until he usually fell asleep. This day he did once again but as I looked down on him, his hand relaxing in mine I knew he gone this time, there would be no more chats just a heap of wonderful memories.

 

Written for: https://new2writing.wordpress.com/2016/05/23/maydays-prompt-friendship-transformation/

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Wordle #110 “May 23rd, 2016” – Sachet

Posted on May 23, 2016 by Michael

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This week’s words: Damask Waist Neck Landslide Vignette (a decorative design or small illustration used on the title page of a book or at the beginning or end of a chapter. an engraving, drawing, photograph, or the like that is shaded off gradually at the edges so as to leave no definite line at the border. a decorative design representing branches, leaves, grapes, or the like, as in a manuscript any small, pleasing picture or view. a small, graceful literary sketch.) Moonstruck (mentally deranged, supposedly by the influence of the moon; crazed. dreamily romantic or bemused.) Melt Flawless Mince Torch Sachet Metaphor

 

Crawford was the most moonstruck character I knew. He had just minutes earlier minced into the room carrying a tray of fruit mince pies.

There was something about him that made you ill at ease. He was a human metaphor, he was all things but himself and that made for the most disturbing of relationships. You never knew where you stood with him, as you were never sure who it was you were dealing with.

So he came into the room with the tray of mince pies and set them down on mother’s favourite damask tablecloth, the one she had imported from Damascus, hand sown by small waisted virgins under the strict control of flawlessly dressed men in white suits.

Crawford didn’t care for mother’s tablecloth nor did he give a rat’s arse about her ancient volumes of Sanskrit text, each chapter containing a vignette valued in the millions. This volume mother would place out on the coffee table mainly to show off her wealth and influence.

Crawford was a sad excuse for a human being and why mother tolerated him was often beyond me but apparently it had something to do with a landslide father was involved in many years before. Father was a politician and had come to power in a landslide election result and Crawford’s father had been his opponent.

It turned out that Crawford’s mother held a torch for my father, it was on an expedition into the Jenolan Caves back in 36 and somehow or other a little while later Crawford had appeared. His mother died in childbirth and the story was that Crawford was adopted into our family as his father the husband of Mrs Crawford refused to stick his neck out and claim the boy as his. So I grew up with an older brother, one we called Sachet, as a little bit was all you needed.

So as Crawford minced around the room being his obnoxious self I decided that in the company we were keeping tonight, of Princes and Princesses it would be best for me to melt into the surroundings and pretend I didn’t know him.

I knew that there was only so far Crawford could go before father had him removed by this many minders, the no neck muscle men he gathered around him capable of producing a landslide all of their own with the simple twist of their hands. Sure enough as Crawford was about to show Lady Stella mothers favourite vignette he was seized and dispatched to his room, the now familiar meltdown room built especially to contain Sachet in moments like this.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/05/23/wordle-110-may-23rd-2016/

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Moral Mondays: “Harsh Words Stir Up Anger”

Posted on May 23, 2016 by Michael

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It was always the Tupperware cupboard, a walk in cupboard floor to ceiling with plastic of every description.

Always it was untidy, easier to throw in when not being used.

His job was to tidy it.

No amount of hours made a difference. It was never done right. Vicious words upon vicious words left him frustrated, angry, on edge any amount of trouble could have happened.

Called lazy and useless one time too many he acted, walked out, left the mess to the one who never tidied anything. As usual she didn’t understand, denied she did anything to provoke him.

 

 

Written for: Moral Mondays: “Harsh Words Stir Up Anger”

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#Maydays Prompt – Interesting Times

Posted on May 22, 2016 by Michael

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Today’s #maydays prompt: A time which is most interesting to you?

Its early morning

The sun is on the horizon.

A soft light filters through the curtains.

Outside the avian chorus

Sings joyously in unison

Their own song of the dawn.

I look across and watch you

Sleeping, at peace with yourself.

Your beauty stuns me at this hour

The morning shadows highlight

The delights in knowing and loving you.

Against the cool I snuggle against you.

Your back arches into me

Our hands clasp,

I hear you murmur hello.

We soak in each other

You smile in delight

As my lips brush your skin.

Turning you look at me

Smile and we kiss.

Our day begins……

 

 

Written for: https://new2writing.wordpress.com/2016/05/22/maydays-prompt-interesting-times/

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May 22 2016: Writing Prompt: Tarot: Major Arcana: Death

Posted on May 22, 2016 by Michael

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Death is not only about a physical manifestation – death happens in millions of ways, unfolding as surely as the sunsets. But predictably, the sun rises each morning. Beginning.

 

Death stood at the end of the old man’s bed. It was a routine pick up as far as he was concerned and he was as always in a bit of a hurry after all the humans were dying like flies and so often it was a matter of life or death if he got there in time. Hence the term limbo was that period in which death was running late and so you lingered in no man’s land awaiting his arrival. It could and was a somewhat anti climatic from time to time.

Death wasn’t a happy character, who would be in a job that attracted Death himself and lets face it not many welcomed him, most were afraid of him and every time there was a sense of disbelief that he actually existed.

So often it was the old coming to him as their lives came to an end, the young who brought about their own end in what he thought was a never-ending variety of ingenious ways.

Today it was Niles Casey taking his final breath. Seconds after his soul was in the hands of Death. Niles had been a sceptical character in life and in death wasn’t much different.

Death greeted him with his usual lack of enthusiasm; you have to bear in mind that Death had been greeting the dead for an awful long time and the novelty had long worn off.

It was a matter of choice Death informed Niles in his now perfected drollness, you got to choose, reincarnation, the darkness or an existence wandering aimlessly in time.

Niles wasn’t very impressed when he pressed Death for some guidance in relation to reincarnation. Death stated that reincarnation was a bit of a lottery and there could be no telling where he might end up. A lot of people Death stated chose the darkness rather than the aimless wandering as like reincarnation wandering aimlessly for eternity wasn’t much to look forward to.

But as Death pointed out the darkness didn’t mean the end but rather if you could find your way out of it, it meant a new beginning, where? Well again the lottery theory came into play.

Death looked at his sheet, his one document on Niles and made a statement that he could only improve in this life on the one he’d just come from. A miserly, petulant, trivial miserable old man who would be lucky if no one actually spat on his coffin.

Niles looked down, asked about God.

Death chuckled to himself, they all asked about God.

‘He’s everywhere,’ said Death, looking about, ‘He turns up at the most inopportune times, runs spot checks, checks my ledgers, makes sure I’m keeping up my quotas, it’s a tough life I have you know.’

Niles looked on in disbelief. ‘Is God an accountant?’

‘Might as well be,’ said Death looking more disconsolate. ‘So what’s it to be for you?’

‘The darkness, ‘ said Niles and in the wink of an eye Niles found himself in a black space with a pinprick of light away in the distance.

‘I’ll walk,’ he thought, ‘how long could it take?

Away to his left a small voice sounding like that of a child’s said: ‘ Eternity.’

 

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/05/22/may-22-2016-writing-prompt-tarot-major-arcana-death/

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#Maydays Prompt – Man’s Best Friend

Posted on May 22, 2016 by Michael

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Today’s #maydays prompt who can resist an animal lover. **

 

Frank was the cutest dog. A little brown fluff ball loving and devoted to us.

My wife was more the dog person than me but Frank won both our hearts.

He was a nervous little dog, timid and had to be coaxed into accepting our home as his. My wife had the most beautiful manner in dealing with him. She spent hours playing with him, training him and always rewarding him.

Frank over time grew to love us and would wait each morning at the back door for one of us to take him outside to potty or to take him on a walk.

He loved his morning walks and would strut along beside us as we made our way to the dog park where he would be let run chasing a ball we threw or playing with the other dogs who frequented the park.

One night we were awakened by Frank’s barking. Frank didn’t bark very often and that he was making racket was a sign he was agitated.

My wife first noticed the smoke, she screamed at me to get up and grab the computers and the diary box, she kept a box of all diaries in the hope that one day she’d write her life story.

With my arms full and visibility decreasing, I stumbled my way along the corridor towards the back door. I could hear Frank urging me on, my wife behind me beginning to cough as the smoke thickened.

I told her to get down and crawl towards the back door but it wasn’t long before she wasn’t saying anything.

I made it to the door and threw the stuff in my arms out into the yard praying quietly that I hadn’t smashed anything before turning back into the smoke to find my one great love.

I couldn’t hear Frank either by now.

On my hands and knees I crawled back to where my wife lay gasping, and Frank was there beside her, licking her on the face trying his best to let her know help was at hand.

She wasn’t conscious so I hoisted her onto my shoulder but not before I took in a final gasp of air from the floor level.

It was only a few paces to the back door but it felt like a fifty-meter dash and I crashed through the back door and out onto the lawn my wife falling onto the grass and me gasping for breath.

Before I could get to her I heard her cough, I thanked God she was alive and then thought where was Frank? I thought he had followed me out the door.

I looked around but he wasn’t there.

By now the fire brigade had arrived and were hosing down the house.

I called to the one nearest me telling him that Frank was still inside.

He turned and gave me a look that said it all. Our house was an inferno.

I slumped to the ground; all energy drained from me and looked at my wife who now with an oxygen mask on had listened to my frantic cries to help Frank.

There was nothing we could do but sit and wait.

They found Frank just inside the back door. He’d made it that far before the fumes overwhelmed him.

My wife wept for days at losing Frank but also losing the one who had awoken us to the danger and who had come back to her to make sure I found her and took her to safety.

Frank lives on in our hearts as our favourite dog, brave and courageous giving his life for our survival.

 

** Another version of this story exists at:

https://summerstommy.com/2015/10/29/tale-weaver-37-pet-story-frank/

 

Written for: https://new2writing.wordpress.com/2016/05/21/maydays-prompt-mans-best-friend/

 

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