Photo Challenge #302 – Dreams and being Lost.

Posted on February 11, 2020 by Michael

gwpwbogalzrk5xnudkqx000ref-78pj8r7cextf-btu

Image: Shichigoro Shingo

I’m leaving school heading home, a path I have taken a hundred or more times.

Today I’m confused, the road I take leads me nowhere, I’m in a place I don’t recognise, and every turn confuses me further.

I stop and ask for direction, and I’m given some which sound easy, but when I follow them once again, I am nowhere.

I know if I reach the train station I’ll be safe, as the train will take me home.

I arrive at the station only to find I’m at a place I don’t recognise. People tell me there is a train in a few minutes. It arrives, and I clamber on, grateful to finally have found a way home.

The train travels along an unknown path and eventually stops at a station I don’t recognise.

The people all get off, and I realise this train will now reverse back to where it came from, that it only operates on this particular piece of railway.

I find myself back where I started, no closer to home and no way knowing what I might now do.

 

I awake wondering what does all this mean? I have had this dream a lot, what is my mind trying to say to me?

I am well over my working days, I don’t harbour any ambition to go back there, but maybe in my sub-consciousness, there is unfinished business, and it keeps dragging me back. The theme of the dream of being lost is re-occurring, always in a different location, sometimes with people I know, sometimes with people, I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

The alternative view could be its about not knowing where home is?

That in itself does make some sense to me as when my marriage ended, I did feel very disorientated, lost you might say.

 

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/02/11/photo-challenge-302/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 9 Comments

Eugi’s Weekly Challenge – Love – February 10, 2020

Posted on February 11, 2020 by Michael

pexels-photo-1166578

“Write me a letter

Tell me how you feel.”

I want to say I love you

But is that enough?

What part of me is within those words?

Several drafts lay upon the floor

Each attempt laced with frustration

As I struggle to write the words

Words that are within me

But cannot be expressed.

In the end, I am who I am

Hopelessly in love with you

And so, I guess that will have to do.

 

Written for: https://amanpan.com/2020/02/10/eugis-weekly-challenge-love-february-10-2020/

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , | 9 Comments

Sunday Writing Prompt “What makes you smile” – Winnie’s Potion

Posted on February 9, 2020 by Michael

www.hdnicewallpapers.com

Miss Marble, of 46 Grimace, witch extraordinaire, was used to receiving unusual requests for potions to fix all manner of situations and ailments.

The one she received from Winnie Foster, of 19 Grimace Street did set her mind ticking.

Winnie needed a potion to help her smile more. Her grandchildren were planning a visit, and she wanted to show them a more congenial side to herself than she might normally do so.

You could never say Winnie was a happy person. She acknowledged she was, for the most part, a grump of the highest order. It was that Winnie never saw the good in life. It probably reflected her childhood for as a child her parents slogged day in and day out in the mines and the workhouse. Life was a constant struggle against poverty and starvation and as such Winnie grew up in an environment where survival was more luck than anything else.

Miss Marble had known Winnie for a long time; they were, in fact, good friends and when times had been tough in the neighbourhood when death or illness had struck one of their neighbours Winnie had always stepped up in offering help. She did so willingly, she just had a hard time displaying her compassion, you always felt she was there, but you were happiest when she wasn’t as Winnie had a presence you always felt you could do without.

Now that her grandchildren were visiting Winnie decided it was time for her to step up. She even went to the local bookshop and purchased a copy of “Grand-parenting for Dummies”. But despite all the good advice, the book contained she felt she needed that little bit extra one of Miss Marble’s potions might afford her.

So Miss Marble set to work, every potion was always tailor-made for the user, and Winnie was no open book when it came to finding the right potion. Miss Marble consulted her ancient book of potions, and as she had a good week before the grandchildren arrived, she thought there was time for research and experimentation.

Finally, she hit upon the right measurements, a potion, which as she later said, would bridge the distance between two people, namely Winnie and her grandchildren, there being two grandchildren was a bonus in terms of the potion she concocted.

A drop in her tea the night before they arrived should do the trick.

And it did. Winnie’s son couldn’t believe the mother he found when he opened the door to her house. He had warned his children that their grandmother was not always the most pleasant of people to be around, but the Grandmother who entertained them that weekend was simply wonderful. She conversed with her grandchildren, she played with them, she listened to them, and most importantly, she radiated a smile that filled them with love.

Miss Marble heard about it the following Monday when Winnie stopped by to thank Miss Marble and tell her of her wonderful weekend and that the grandchildren were planning a visit during the next school holidays.

Miss Marble suggested making enough potion so she could take a drop each night as a way of being safe.

Winnie surprised her though by saying she didn’t think she’d need any potion as the weekend had taught her the value of smiling even though her face muscles were tight from doing something she didn’t normally do.

That said Miss Marble as they sipped their tea was a far better potion than anything she might conjure up.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/02/09/sunday-writing-prompt-what-makes-you-smile/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 7 Comments

Reena’s Exploration Challenge #121

Posted on February 7, 2020 by Michael

rec121

The last book on Planet Earth

Of the books ever written, it made sense that the last one standing was “The Book of Survival at The End of The World”.

Everyone still alive had one, and it was considered the bible in terms of survival.

In some ways, as the end neared, the book was more redundant than useful but when all you have is hope you cling to it like your life depends on it.

Written many years earlier, it detailed the steps you would need to take when life was drawing to a closure. There was nothing you could do about it, the darkness had gradually been getting more intense, the inhabitants lived a subsistence life, death was more prevalent than birth.

Misery became the norm, death couldn’t come fast enough for some, such that throughout the earth, only pockets of life remained. Those who believed in the existence of a far greater power and who believed they would be delivered into a new world spent their days looking skyward, hoping against all hope for some sort of revelation.

“The Book of Survival at The End of The World” remained as those who once treasured it fell by the wayside or used it to prop open their doorways, or selected pages to start a fire with either way it did have its uses even if they were not the intended ones.

The Preacher used it to stand on when he stood in his pulpit and spoke to his ever-dwindling congregation until it was only him and the book. He stepped down knowing it was his time now and happily embraced the darkness leaving, the last book on Planet Earth, to flutter its pages in the growing breeze.

 

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2020/02/06/reenas-exploration-challenge-121/

 

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , | 9 Comments

Tale Weaver – #261 – Tale Weaver/Fairy Tale – Wizard – 6th February

Posted on February 6, 2020 by Michael

img_0379

Being a wizard wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

There was nothing glamorous about it, apart from the sequined hat, mostly it was a grind, constant orders and expectations about which Warren the Wizard was highly sceptical.

But life was what it was, and as he came from a long line of wizards, there was an expectation within the family that Warren would carry on the family tradition.

Today had been like so many other days. From dawn, he had been inundated with requests for one thing or another. What surprised him was the unhappiness people put on him.

They wanted potions to deal with height, shortness, too fat, too thin, unhappiness, hair falling out and in recent times requests from men wanting something to give them either a bigger penis or a longer-lasting erection. Warren thought Viagra had taken care of that but apparently not.

Love potions were as much in demand as they had been two hundred years ago when he began learning the wizarding craft from his father.

He had a shelf in his workshop just dedicated to love potions as it was never a case of ‘one sip fits all.’

Today he was working on a new potion, one intended to make one less narcissistic. He had received a letter from a woman who pleaded with him to make a potion that would quell her husband’s narcissistic tendencies. Her life was a misery she said, her children walked in fear of him, and he saw nothing wrong in the way he behaved. This was a worthy challenge he decided.

It required some research, he poured over his books, he went back into his father’s notes, they being very extensive, and concluded he needed to mix one very common herb with one very rare one. The common herb he had bucket loads of, the rare one he found one dried up miserable-looking example.

He mixed them together and waited to see what happened when the two herbs interacted.

There was some very complicated bubbling, a lot of steam, several very loud rude burps and finally, the mixture turned an attractive red. He left it for a day before returning to find the mixture had separated, a red base and a clear upper layer. Most disturbing was a set of eyes staring at him through the glass on the jar, they had that ‘I’m not happy’ look and that look suggested they’d probably strangle him given half a chance.

He gave the jar a shake and the red and clear mixed together producing a scream which caused him to droop the jar. It hit the ground but did not break. He watched as the liquid swirled inside the jar, then eventually settled.

It was rare for a potion to present a danger to life in the manner this potion did. He consulted his father’s notes again and found a reference that a sprig of mint would settle the rare herb’s reaction.

Doing so, he noticed the eyes now clearly visible had lost their look of maleficence. They all most smiled at him, in the way that only eyes can.

A week later, he received a letter from the woman to say her husband was now a loving and caring man and happy to change the baby’s nappies, cook and wash up every night.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/02/06/tale-weaver-261-tale-weaver-fairy-tale-wizard-6th-february/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 5 Comments

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #65 – Crisp Visits the Dead.

Posted on February 5, 2020 by Michael

scroll-headstone-cp

My aged companion, Crisp, loved a good cemetery, or should I say any cemetery so long as it was old which in fact meant any place for the dead. On our holiday we came across many such places, to which Crisp would always say: “There are so many, people must have been dying to get into them.”

On this day we were standing in the resting place known as St Pagan’s Home for the Deceased and she was admiring the ornate headstones.

“People went to a lot of trouble didn’t they,” she said, “to remember their loved ones.”

I asked her if she wanted to be buried or cremated and she said it didn’t matter, what did matter was that someone remembered her.

I said I was sure her kids would.

Crisp thought for a moment and said: “It would be nice wouldn’t it, to think they remembered you.”

 

Written for: https://crispinakemp.com/2020/02/05/crimsons-creative-challenge-65/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , | 15 Comments

Photo Challenge #301 – The Open Air Dance Class

Posted on February 4, 2020 by Michael

levitation

Image: Lara Zankoul

The class had gone well. The commitment and enthusiasm of the women was infectious. The expectation of a bumper concert this year was high in their minds. Even Belinda from Bulgum, co-ordination challenged, was putting in her best efforts much to everyone’s delight.

The talk during the warm down was of the impeding crisis outside. The hills were alight, homes had been destroyed, they prayed for a wind change, that way their respective homes might be saved.

When she locked up the hall, the air was thick with smoke, she could taste it and the heat of the day was still intense.

Later that night, there came the call to evacuate. The fire was close to the town. With many others, she found shelter in the Surf Club up on the headland.

By morning, there was an eerie darkness, was this the end of times she wondered. The sun had not risen, the darkness had a red glow, and along with so many others, she huddled with neighbours waiting out the firestorm.

By afternoon the atmosphere began to clear. There was still thick smoke everywhere, they were not permitted to leave, they were urged to sit tight until the all clear was announced.

The next morning after a very restless sleep, she heard the town was gone. The main street had been razed.

There was silence as they took in what they had heard. A numbness took over from the hope they had harboured the night before.

The next day she ventured back, her studio was now a heap of rubble. Devastated, she took in what had once been the source of her passion and commitment to the town. Beside her a woman had turned up for the evening class, still full of hope.

One of the women’s husbands had a front-end loader and cleared away the debris leaving only the concrete slab the studio had stood on. The women spent the day cleaning down the slab, sweeping away the ashe finding they still had a dream and a desire to dance.

That afternoon she held her first ever open-air twilight dance class. Six of her twelve regulars turned up.

Determined to stay together,

Determined to show solidarity

Determined to show the community

Determined to defy nature’s worst.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/02/04/photo-challenge-301/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , | 13 Comments

Reena’s Exploration Challenge #120 – The Rhetorical Question.

Posted on February 2, 2020 by Michael

rec-120

The politician stood in front of his audience, delivered his address and then invited questions.

The first question asked about his government’s response to the current domestic crisis.

The politician listened to the question and gave himself a moment to consider his response before saying he took the question as a rhetorical one and didn’t feel the need to make any comment.

It was his standard response when asked something he either didn’t have an answer to or didn’t want to answer.

He turned his media conferences into meaningless exchanges in which he espoused his virtues and those of his government and ignored anything uncomfortable.

He discovered a sound way to protect himself, his rhetoric in reply, to what he considered a rhetorical question. Always delivered with the smugness of a seasoned politician.

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2020/01/30/reenas-exploration-challenge-120/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , | 5 Comments

Sunday Writing Prompt “Limbo” – Lionel the Gatekeeper.

Posted on February 2, 2020 by Michael

limbo

When the angel Lionel went to work each day as the gatekeeper of Limbo, he treated it as one would any other job.

There had not been many if any, applicants for the position and Lionel had accepted it, as a means to get through eternity in a manner he thought would not cause him too much grief.

After all, Limbo was a sort of halfway house between the up and the down aspects of eternity.

It was like being in a huge waiting room in which not a lot happened other than a lot of the same question being asked: “When am I going to find out?”

Lionel had no idea when a soul might be delivered from Limbo as in most cases the soul was there because they were deemed to hard to classify or the powers that be needed more time to consider them.

When souls arrived, Lionel processed them and looked at their paperwork, which often read: “Not sure”, “Not ready”, “Waiting”, “I’ll get back to you”.

So he let them in, told them to find somewhere comfortable and then ignored them, as there was not a lot he could do other than shut the gate and like them await some divine outcome.

The problem was the souls in Limbo had a direct view of the goings-on upstairs as much as the goings-on downstairs, and

both destinations had their positive and negative features. So sitting in Limbo all day, or rather, for an eternity, was not always the best of both worlds. There was nothing positive nor negative about Limbo, and in a way that was the point of the place. It wasn’t designed as somewhere you could settle in and be comfortable. Lionel had long discovered that even as the gatekeeper, he wasn’t afforded any consideration. It was impossible to have a nap as the beds were unbelievably uncomfortable and had a rather unfortunate habit of sagging irritatingly in the middle so you could never get comfortable, for after all, that was the whole point of Limbo.

It was another quiet day as Lionel sat around reading the latest “Eternity Herald” a weekly record of the events from one day to the next and which always surprised him as nothing changed in eternity. The gate bell sounded, and he headed off to open up only to be confronted by an odd orange looking man looking exceedingly irritated. The paperwork suggested he needed a ‘cooling-off period’ and Lionel had come across these souls before, they were always trouble, never believing they deserved to be where they were and always claiming they were the epitome of righteousness and had done nothing wrong.

Lionel pointed him in a certain direction and waited for him to go out of sight before sitting down to his reading once again. There was one aspect of Limbo he did like that was putting the souls ‘on the road’. The road was full of promises, and at each corner the road took you towards another promise, which meant the greedy, being what they were, always stayed focused on reaching something they thought they deserved but was always out of reach. What they failed, to realise was the road had a slight downward spiral.

 

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/02/02/sunday-writing-prompt-limbo/

 

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 19 Comments

Tale Weaver – #260 – Tremor – 30th January – And He Feels It.

Posted on January 30, 2020 by Michael

img_0373

He wakes with the first light

And he feels it.

At breakfast, porridge and blueberries

And he feels it.

During his morning commute

He feels it.

At the office, head down bum up

He feels it.

During lunch, as he bites on his sushi

He feels it.

The afternoon is long and tiring

And he feels it.

In the evening as he sits watching the news

He feels it.

As the night descends, he takes to his bed

And he feels it.

 

There’s a tremor, a vibration,

From within and without,

It’s the thought of her,

Her love invades his consciousness

Feels his heart skip a beat

He envisages her face.

They say you can sometimes

Feel the earth move,

It happens, it shudders through him

Tremors in expectation,

He smiles broadly

And awaits the next instant.

 

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/01/30/tale-weaver-260-tremor-30th-january/

 

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 13 Comments