Reena’s Exploration Challenge #105 – Wistfulness

Posted on September 20, 2019 by Michael

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As we age, we have a lot of time to reflect on the past.

Behind us littered in our wake are the exploits of our earlier lives, some noteworthy but many cringeworthy to say the least.

It does become a matter of wishing you knew then what you know now. But those errors we made have all contributed to making us the people we are now.

It’s after it’s all over that you get to evaluate the many episodes in your life that have shaped the person you are now.

For many of us older folk, we look back at how naïve we were. I, for one, thought, like so many, that I had a handle on this life thing, but experience was to tell me I didn’t. I stumbled along, making mistakes, getting involved with the same sort of people and committing the same mistakes over and over.

I think I was a slow learner, despite my belief I was a level headed sort of bloke.

If I’d known back, then I was not going to be someone’s knight in shining armour things may have turned out differently. I would not have stepped into the mire of abuse and maybe have taken more control of my life. It took me twenty years to do that, and I have to admit it was a freeing decision.

There are some things I would not have changed, even though at the time I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into, like teaching, it seemed an ok place to go in life, but I had little to no idea what it might mean for me. That happened as I went along.

I think many of us are works in progress, we move forward, filled with trepidation, but believing we don’t want to stand still and stagnate. This happens all through life, and I’m sure in years to come I will think back on these present years and wonder what might have been different had I known better.

The trouble is the years are flying by.

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2019/09/19/reenas-exploration-challenge-105-2/

 

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September 19: Flash Fiction Challenge – The Interval.

Posted on September 20, 2019 by Michael

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September 19, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about an interlude. It can be a pause between two key moments, the pause between acts in a play, an intermission, or a temporary amusement Go where the prompt leads you!

There was a collective sigh of relief when the interval arrived.

It was one of those productions you wondered if it would go on forever. But now we were mercifully given a welcome break to stand up, stretch and question if we’d ever get back the previous hour. Then the reality of having to endure a second act promising to be as tedious as the first.

The cast didn’t help with some severe mis-matching of character. The middle aged plump woman playing the teenager wasn’t fooling anyone.

There was a collective sigh of relief when the curtain finally fell.

 

 

Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2019/09/20/september-19-flash-fiction-challenge/

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Thursday photo prompt: Murmur #writephoto

Posted on September 20, 2019 by Michael

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At sunset, the murmurs began. Against the fading day, the voices of the forest made themselves heard.

The predators made murmur of their intent, their hunger driving them to act quickly, the potential prey murmuring warnings to be ever vigilant.

Over the top of them, all the night insects struck up their chorus, their orchestra of scratching’s and rubbings to both attract and detract.

With the day closing in the temperature dropped, leaving every creature to breath in the air already cooling, the steam of their breathe visible for all to see.

The predator put his nose to the air seeking out a meal that would be pleasant and easily acquired. At the same time, the prey sought the scent of the predator and once again murmured to each other to be watchful.

In the village, the inhabitants readied themselves for sleep, tucked their children into beds and looked forward to a well-earned rest.

They secured their doors and hoped their night would be uneventful. But one could never be sure and murmured that reality to each other.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2019/09/19/thursday-photo-prompt-murmur-writephoto/

 

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The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest – The Garage Sale

Posted on September 19, 2019 by Michael

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Tables roughly set,

All the junk I can find

Set out haphazardly

A mad woman’s breakfast, you might say.

At dawn, they begin to assemble

The junk dealers, predators

Looking for a free bargain,

If they can get it.

Haggling over the silliest things

Want something for nothing

Watch for the pilferers.

Grandma’s old vase, cracked and crazed

Still partially covered in sixty years of dust

Has a presence it hasn’t entertained in so long

The buyers understandably ignore it

I was thinking it would go in a flash

But no at days end it sits alone on the far table

Just as its always done,

Neglected, lonely, making a statement

No idea what,

“Grandma had poorer taste than I thought?”

No matter what we got rid of stuff

People happy to pay to take away my crap.

 

Written for: https://chelseaannowens.com/2019/09/14/the-weekly-terrible-poetry-contest-38/

 

 

 

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Tale Weaver – #241 – Sorry – More to Do.

Posted on September 19, 2019 by Michael

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Image: Pixbay

What did he have to feel sorry about?

He hadn’t killed anyone or robbed them blind. So, what was it that made him feel so miserable as the day went by?

Aging wasn’t fun he came to realise. It was alright for people to say retirement would open up a new page in his life, but what if he was constantly beset with physical ailments, the sort that crept on you and told you in no uncertain terms the end was coming.

He wasn’t about to give up on everything even though his body was telling him to slow down, or at times downright refusing to cooperate.

He was thankful his family had grown up and had their own lives independent of him though at times they did rely on him to get them out of a financial crisis or two. He didn’t want to become a burden on them, the way his own father had gone, from the strong independent man of his childhood to an old dependent man.

Am I sorry for missed opportunity he asked himself?

Could be I might have done better? He had long resolved that he was who he was and there wasn’t much he could do about that.

You can regret the past, beat yourself up over the bad decisions you made but, in the end, there wasn’t any point in worrying over what you couldn’t change.

I was never perfect he told himself, then again who is? It took him sixty years to find a woman, a companion who loved him for who he was. That’s a long wait he told himself, and he was determined to make the best of what he found in her. Previous relationships had ended in acrimony, he couldn’t get away fast enough knowing he had simply repeated the past and fallen into the same bad habits and he spent more than an adequate amount of time berating himself.

Now with bits not working like he wanted them too, with the days getting longer and he getting more and more tired as his kidneys struggled to allow him to live some sort of ‘normal’ life he faced the prospect of becoming dependent, of not being able to live as he wanted.

There was plenty for him to feel sorry about if he stopped to give it some thought. But that idea was depressing, and he didn’t want to go there as he knew there might not be any coming back.

He looked at the clock and saw it was almost time to retire for his afternoon nap. His mornings were filled with energetic activities a walk, the shops, household jobs, but as the day went on, he tired and knew he needed to rest. Just an hour he told himself.

He knew his mother had maybe thought the same when she lay down one day some thirty years prior and didn’t wake up. A great way to go, but he wasn’t ready just yet, there was so much more to do, people to see and love, places to go, hands to hold and mornings to awaken to a love he never thought would come his way.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/09/19/tale-weaver-241-sorry/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #45 – Crisp Sings.

Posted on September 18, 2019 by Michael

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I fear my aged companion, Crisp, is losing her mind. Either that or I have been reading far too much of late about dementia.

We were out walking along the lake, and she stopped and began singing:

“The water is wide, I cannot get o’er
Neither have I wings to fly
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall cross my true love and I.”

Crisp is not known for her singing ability, she struggles to recognise a note let alone hold one, so it came as a surprise to hear her singing. Looking across I spied the windmill in the distance and remembered a story she told me of her youth when she met a young Dutch boy who won her heart before disappearing down a sinkhole.

She was quiet for a while, unusual in itself, before taking my hand and walking on.

 

Written for: https://crispinakemp.com/2019/09/18/crimsons-creative-challenge-45/

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Photo Challenge #281 – Max

Posted on September 18, 2019 by Michael

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Image: Google Images

Max was happiest when surrounded by company.

It was evident when you arrived home

He would excitedly race around the house,

Up and down the stairs

Stopping momentarily to sniff your leg,

Happy there was no other dog scent on you,

He’d continue his demonstration of pleasure.

Once his routine was complete, he would retire to his favourite lounge

Curl into a ball and sleep away his effort to impress you.

His sleep only interrupted by the smell of cooking

Then he would venture into the kitchen

Standing in expectation of something coming his way.

In the winter he’d make a bee line for the heater

Park himself in front

Settle down to soaking up the warmth

Making sure we were always close by.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/09/17/photo-challenge-281/

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Wordle #150 – ‘Slubber’ Overkill.

Posted on September 16, 2019 by Michael

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This week’s words: Find Out 100 Yards  Slubber (to perform hastily or carelessly)  Rarefied  Slip  North  Buy  Shoes  Kill  Saturday  Brag  Rule

It was only a matter of time before the world found out about Paul ‘Slubber’ Overkill. ‘Slubber’ was a win at all costs sort of guy. The result was some very careless attempts at world records or should I say dodgy attempts.

He liked to brag about his exploits, like the day he ran a record time for the 100 Yards even though it was all downhill with a breeze behind him he still claimed a record.

“Slubber’ lived in the rarefied atmosphere of pretending to believe anything that made him look good in his own eyes. Some people said he could have been President with an attitude like that. But unfortunately, he was just too smart.

One Saturday morning he slipped into his car and headed North to buy new shoes, not just any shoes but shoes that would not only make him look good but would also allow him to break every rule of competition.

‘Slubber’ wasn’t one to be encumbered by rules. He bragged about his propensity to get around regulation. The shoes he purchased were silver crossed with dynamic rubber soles ensuring an improved performance.

He wore them the next day and finished last in a race he thought he would have won if the shoes had not melted in the hot sun and stuck to the running track. Later it was pointed out he needed to read the fine print on his new shoes as it revealed the shoes were not suitable for days of high heat.

‘Slubber’ Overkill was never deterred and lined up for the next race, as determined as ever to show his skills.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/09/16/wordle-150/

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Sunday Writing Prompt “The Warehouse” – For $1000.

Posted on September 15, 2019 by Michael

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The sign said: ‘$1000 for three minutes.

Are you brave enough to go in the cage?’

My mate Carson looked at the sign then at me and said: “You should give that a go. Think what we could do with $1000.”

After that, there was a whole lot of jostling, bravado and after a few drinks a promise to give it a go.

We arrived at the Warehouse, there was a crowd outside all lining up to go in and to one side was a window where you could sign up.

Carson took my arm and led me over to the window, he gave my name, and the lady behind the counter looked at both of us and shook her head. I think in hindsight she could see well in advance what was going to happen.

“I wonder who I have to go up against?” I asked.

Just then there was a roar, and the lights lit up on the far side of the building, and a shrouded figure emerged and made its way to the ring.

The figure entered the ring and let out a gigantic roar. It was at this stage that I questioned the wisdom of what we thought was a good idea. Did we really need that $1000?

I’m not sure the thing in the ring was human or not.

No doubt at one stage of its life it had been a baby and one I hoped a mother had loved. It certainly wasn’t showing any love at that moment.

They introduced the creature as Igor, from the mountains of Siberia. The first encounter resulted in Igor throwing his opponent into the fourth row of the crowd. It was clear as the afternoon went on that none of us were going to be any sort of match to him. The guy was too big and too strong.

My memory of entering the ring is clouded nowadays. I remember Carson pushing me forward, I remember climbing into the ring, I remember looking up into Igor’s eyes and for a fleeting second seeing a touch of humanity, but after that nothing.

Carson said I put up a fair fight, I dodged, I weaved, I stepped back and forward and then I like everyone else flew through the air. Carson said he was impressed that I landed in the tenth row. All this he recounted later took all of ten seconds.

The bruises have all but healed now, but I have to say I shudder every time I see an add on the TV for cage fighting. There’s something in the back of my mind that wants to stay there come what may.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/09/15/sunday-writing-prompt-the-cage/

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Fun Challenge #2

Posted on September 14, 2019 by Michael

Just for fun, no pressure😄 Provide a pic of your refrigerator front. As you can see, I’m no photographer, this is just a “get to know you better”.

MIne below is a mix of my grandson’s colouring-in, he is into super heroes. A wedding invitation and several calling cards and appointments. Not always inspiring I know, but the small boy on the fridge is my grandson Joey, now aged 6, so I must update the fridge I’m thinking.

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For: https://rugby843.blog/2019/09/14/fun-challenge-2

Posted in Photo prompt, Uncategorized | Tagged , | 6 Comments