Scribe’s Cave Picture Prompt #72 = Feelin’ Lucky?

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‘G’day mate feelin’ lucky?’

I spun around and looked at the slot machines lining the wall.

The centrepiece was, Hungry Cat.

The raised paw was inviting. I found a few yen in my pocket and decided to give it a go.

I had no idea what Hungry Cat was about so I put in my yen and pulled down on his paw.

The coins were immediately sucked in, my hand was stuck to the paw, I couldn’t withdraw, I looked and Hungry Cat was smiling a malevolent smirk, I felt a pain shoot up my arm, my brain went fuzzy, I woke up on the floor.

Awake I shook my head, my brain was in a state of confusion, clouds rolled in, thunder rumbled, a bolt of lightning sat me upright. I looked and my right arm was raised.

In horror I realised I was now a Hungry Cat. I was on the shelf.

A small girl appeared and slipped a coin into me and pulled my arm. Suddenly my eyes rolled, my mouth opened and I spat out a piece of paper.

‘Oh look daddy,’ she said. ‘It says, Feelin’ lucky? Today is your lucky day.’

Written for: http://caveofscribes.starvingactivist.com/2015/06/22/scribes-cave-picture-prompt-72/

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SoCS June 27/15 – Some/Sum

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Badge by Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

This week’s prompt: “some/sum.” 

I can’t do any of these sums mum.

Oh Johnny. You can do some of them surely.

Na.

What’s the first one?

Six plus four.

Just six plus four?

Yes.

Well?

Well what do you think the answer might be?

No idea Mum. I think my brains fell out in the holidays.

Nonsense you just have to put your thinking cap on.

Its not helping mum.

You have it on back to front.

Oh right, wow look at that Mum.

What my darling?

I can see the answer.

And what is it?

Eleven.

Eleven?

Yes eleven.

How did you work that out?

Well I thought six apples and four apples.

Yes that’s right you have ten right?

No mum you forgot Gran always gives me one for luck.

Some times I wonder why we visit Gran.

I’m smart now aren’t I mum?

 

Written for: http://lindaghill.com/2015/06/26/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-2715/

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Fairy Tale prompt June 26th 2015 A Japanese Fairy Tale to inspire you – The Watchmen

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This week’s prompt: write a short story or poem in which curiosity is one of the themes.

Curiosity killed the cat.

That much was plain to me when I discovered Fluffball dead beside the fern garden.

The cat was my sister’s pet and she was understandably upset at the cat’s untimely demise.

But I had looked at the dead cat and seen the cause of its death. There were tiny pinpricks in its eyes. The death marks of the Watchmen.

The Watchmen were the guards to the Fern Tree. I had planted one many years before when it was a single frond doing poorly in the nursery I discovered it in.

Now it was a gigantic tree majestic and flourishing in the centre of my fern garden.

It wasn’t long before I noticed the Tree Fern was inhabited by the aristocratic Tree Fern Fairies. Tree ferns as you know grow from the base, they spread and lose branches as they expand. As they do so the Tree Fern Fairies hollow out the inside of the tree and create a city of their own and my tree fern was just a thriving metropolis of fairy life lordered over by the majestic and noble Tree Fern Fairies.

They had a hierarchy, a chain of command that extended from the lords at the top to the lowly workers. But guarding the entire kingdom were the Watchmen.

There had been many a beast over the years that allowed curiosity to get the better of it and had been dealt with swiftly by the Watchmen.

At one stage I recall a challenge was being issued by the Bird’s Nest Fairies to take over the tree fern but this was resisted even when the Nesters as they were known came with gifts of rare jewels, exquisite foods and hand crafted cloth to present to the Fairy King who at that time was known as Mans. Mans was a very noble and much loved King, benevolent to his subjects and always open to learn more about the world around him.

He knew the Nesters and from childhood remembered them as cruel and manipulative. His own grandfather had died at the hands of the Nesters who swindled him out of his life savings and left him destitute.

Mans had become King to great applause from his subjects and had taken the beautiful Mikas as his wife. They were a much-loved couple.

Mans was never to be fooled by the Nesters and saw the malevolent glint in their eye, had forewarned his Watchmen to be at the ready.

At the appointed time Mans signalled to his Watchmen who drove the Nesters from the kingdom and drove them deep into the fernery pushing them back into the depths of the garden thus removing any threat of potential future oppression from the garden.

The Nesters though in recent times had gathered in strength and word was out that their curious selves were planning another take over.

That had necessitated the placing of a guard at the base of the tree fern and which had led in part to the death of Fluffball. The Watchmen had spears tipped with a poison that when pieced through your skin brought about an instant death. They had discovered that the eyes were the most susceptible part and made good use of that knowledge.

The current King Mans11 was like his grandfather a benevolent king, much loved and was often seen out and about with his people. He and I had become firm friends, as he was always keen to know about my world each time I entered his world.

Last week I lunched with him and discussed the possibility of me removing the birds nest ferns from the garden, as they were the source of so much unrest within the kingdom. I was reluctant to take out any ferns out as I saw them as magnificent plants and preferred Mans11 to act as he had always done so.

Last night I detected smoke coming from the fernery, a small barely noticeable signal of some dispute being addressed and I knew who would be the winner in my garden.

For some curiosity gets too much and as always its ends in tears or no eyes at all.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/06/26/fairy-tale-prompt-june-26th-2015/

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“Words to Write By” Prompt #11 – Periwinkles

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This week’s words: Landfill diversion procession menace countdown skateboard delve brisk periwinkle auctioneer

‘Gather them by the handful,’ she had told them.

‘Make sure you collect an equal amount of blues and purples.’

‘What ones we don’t want will go to landfill. God help us,’ she murmured thinking of the millions wasted and ending up in the ground.

In years to come, she knew, they’d convert the landfill site into a skateboard park and youths with long hair and pimples would have hours of fun and no longer be a potential menace to the rest of society.

She had the ability to look into the future and see the diversions society was to take. These would be the last of the periwinkles. After today the countdown would be on and another loved plant would drift into extinction.

She sighed as the auctioneer mounted to his lectern and looked about surveying the crowd that had gathered after the long procession down the High Street to the Town Hall where the auction of the remaining periwinkle plants would take place.

A brisk auction took place with bids flying left and right as the last of their kind were won and the triumphant quickly delved into their pockets for the cash needed to ensure their success.

Around the town six gardeners worked late into the night inside their especially constructed green houses to create a likely home for the remaining periwinkles as outside the climate was warming at an alarming rate killing off the remaining plant life.

Mans own menace, greed, she thought, had led to this.  The one thing so many were in denial of. She watched, as the crowd processed out of the Hall and wandered off realising so many would not survive the next winter.

 

Written for: https://therattlingbones.wordpress.com/2015/06/25/words-to-write-by-prompt-11/

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Tale Weaver 19 – Locked In – An Unspelling Potion

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Image: Michael Grogan….Innsbruck Austria*

I loved to taunt the old crone who ran the magic shop in the town mall. She was an ugly old woman with an unpleasant personality and I liked nothing more than to rattle her door and leave things behind just the irritate the old hag. Like lunch wrappers, apple cores and whatever rubbish I had with me.

Mine was a bias based solely on her looks.

My mother told me she was once a famous magician and witch who could conjure all sorts of magic potions.

She gave me the chills when I looked through her front window and saw her all hunched over her counter, surrounded by an array of goods and ingredients for potions, which only added to my perceived horror of her.

She never did anything to me, she was amazingly patient considering the nuisance I made of myself but yesterday I know I went too far.

Being the smartarse I am I went in and asked her for some unspelling potion. She looked puzzled but then asked me to wait while she disappeared behind her back curtain.

She came back with a small blue bottle, told me to take it at bedtime and all would be like I never knew before.

I was thinking she’d recognised the joke but I decided to go along with her. As it was I believed everything about her was hocus pocus.

At bedtime I took the lid off the bottle and sniffed the contents. It had the most alluring scent. It captivated every one of my smelling sensors and before I knew it I had drunk the entire bottle.

Nothing happened other than the lingering aroma of the enticing liquid. But I did feel sleepy.

I slept well.

On opening my eyes I was stunned to see myself standing in the mall, all around me the town was going about its business oblivious to me standing there.

A panic ran through me as I realised I couldn’t move.

I turned one way and then the other but nothing happened.

I realised I was inside and couldn’t get out.

All cries for help were inaudible, every futile gesture ignored.

I was now a statue in the town mall.

A little after noon the old crone came wandering by, stopped and looked up me. I saw a crooked smile, her hag features creasing uncharacteristically as her face cracked a hitherto feature I’d never seen before.

She looked me in the eye and said: “I told you life would be as you never knew it before.”

She wandered off and left me standing there. A small girl stood before me and asked her mother what I was supposed to be.

She told her I was one of those new life like statues the town was investing in and if she wasn’t a good girl she might end up like this one.

She said this and I looked at her as if asking how do you know?

The mother looked at me and I saw it was my mother and the girl was a young me. I was instantly horrified, what had happened to me I asked myself. Had I gone back in time?

My mother smiled at me as if recognising it was me and wandered off holding my younger versions hand.

A little later a man came and sat below me and ate his lunch. Several others joined him and I knew I had company, I was not alone but that night as the sunset and the cold descended I shivered inside my stone tomb.

The old crone came by and sat below me and watched as the moon rose. She rubbed an oil on my feet and instantly I felt a new warmth, as she rose to leave she said I would be warm for the night and that in a week or two she’d think about releasing me but in the meantime I should reflect on my attitudes to others and maybe not judge folk on their appearances, after all within a week the pigeons would have discovered me and then I’d really know what it was like to be shit on every day.

* I have always admired street artists of this kind and this lady was kind enough to allow me to photograph her, I did leave her a few euros in her collection hat. I saw another street performer many years ago as part of a Christmas display in a large department store in Sydney. She was brilliant, she moved but so slowly you could barely notice it. I watched her for ages captivated by the outstanding discipline she showed.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/06/25/tale-weaver-19-locked-in/

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Tuesday’s Photo Prompt #6 – The Wife

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You don’t believe me do you?

Nope. No a word.

I’m telling you I saw her standing over there by the tomatoes.

Impossible.

Why

Cause she’s been dead three years.

Your wife?

Yes.

Dead three years?

Yes, March 5th, 2012.

That was a Tuesday wasn’t it?

Yes.

Always remember Tuesdays.

Well my wife died on a Tuesday.

But I don’t remember your wife dying on a Tuesday.

Well she did.

Shame.

It was.

She was a good woman.

She was.

Made a mean turkey roast.

Never. Not my wife. You’re confusing her with somebody else.

No it was your wife all right.

Couldn’t be! She never cooked anything.

It was your wife, tall woman, red wavy hair, slim waist, alluring breasts, and the tiniest feet.

Yes she was an alluring woman.

Oh she was.

You knew her better than I thought.

Oh I did. I mean I do.

I think about her every day you know.

So do I.

Why?

She does things to me.

What from the grave?

She’s not in the grave I told you I saw her just now near the tomatoes.

I think you’re insane.

No. In love.

With my wife?

Yes have been for years.

Well that’s outrageous; she never said a word to me.

Well she wouldn’t would she.

No I expect not.

I mean it’s not the sort of thing you say to your brother.

No I guess not.

We’re going to the races on Saturday.

You sure? She’d be a bit on the nose wouldn’t she?

Oh I look past all that.

And she only had one leg.

Well its true.

And she was bandy in the other leg.

True, but love conquerors all.

Well I wish you well.

Thanks.

What time did they say they were coming?

Any minute now.

Those white coats are always punctual.

Sadly yes.

Same time next week?

Of course. Gladys is looking forward to it.

She was my wife you know.

Yes I know…was that is….

Written for: https://therattlingbones.wordpress.com/2015/06/23/tuesdays-photo-prompt-6/

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Photo Challenge #66, The Waiting, June 23, 2015 – The Ruse

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Image: Zemotion

Images flood by me

Nothing is lasting

You came and went

I stayed and wondered.

Dark haired and mysterious

A living cliché almost

You played with me

Left me bereft of feeling.

You descended on me

Swept me up in arms of hope

Had your way, played and stayed

Left me wanting more.

I understand now about shadows

They lurk and smirk in corners,

Compulsively magnetic and alluring

Invisible emotional lures.

I spent my trust on you

Saying all the things

Days spent hopelessly spell bound

But a ruse, nothing more, you sap.

My life you sucked away

A man of no substance, no worth

In the distance you look back

And vanish round the final corner.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/06/23/photo-challenge-66-the-waiting-june-23-2015/

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FFfAW Week of 06-24-2015 – Esther

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There was movement and Esther looked up to see Jasper glide across between the aging tombstones. She hadn’t seen him for a while and was surprised to see him today. Jasper kept to himself as much as a spectre could.

Theirs was a lonely non-existence. Stuck in a limbo, forever to linger among the dead.

Esther had been wandering in this ancient graveyard for well over a hundred years. She’d seen others come and go. But apart from Jasper she had been here the longest.

She wasn’t sure of Jasper’s story only that he was the result of a love gone sour.

Her’s was a love unrequited. At least from his family who did everything they could to not only discredit her but exile her within her own town. Ultimately she had paid the price for her resistance.

Vanished into the night and buried in his graveyard so far from anywhere, no one ever knew whom the body belonged to.

Lost in time, Esther wandered in aimless abandonment.

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2015/06/23/fffaw-week-of-06-24-2015/

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Poetry 101 Rehab: Found

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This week’s prompt: Found

Shutting my eyes was so easy

I thought: Why not.

Block out any ambition

You have lost so often

That pain you can do without.

So I did and wandered in my own wilderness

Removed from people

Living isolated

Safe and secure

No threats

I was ok.

Then you popped up

I wasn’t looking for you

But you surfaced all the same

A few idle words here and there

No thoughts of pursuit.

Now I am lost without you

You have lit me from within

Taught me to love

To accept

And above all, to trust.

I can never repay you

Only love you

Reach out

Knowing you are there.

I am amazed each day

That you have found

What I thought could

Never be found.

Written for: http://maraeastern.com/2015/06/22/poetry-101-rehab-found/

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Mondays Finish the Story – June 22nd, 2015 – Wind Chimes

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Finish the story begins with:  Hey boys, how ’bout y’all makin’ yer Ma some wind chimes?”

Otis looked mournfully at his mother

She had a way of making the most from dire situations.

They were down to their last penny and were hoping for a miracle to get them out of their current poverty.

Sunday was the village market and they always liked to hire a space and sell whatever their hands could make.

If it was pretend wind chimes, Otis would give it a try. He had some string and left over wood cuts from his brother’s carpentry shop.

It was a simple task, knock holes in the cans, his mum made some crude but simple labels, a lick of paint on the timber and presto, wind chimes. Otis would be happy if he sold a few.

The following Sunday afternoon they arrived home with no wind chimes and orders for twenty more. Otis took in a breath thinking of another week of beans for supper.

 

Written for: https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/2015/06/22/381/

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