50 Word Thursday #24 – Stay in School

Posted on June 13, 2019 by Michael

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Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay

Hurry, it’s over here.

Where?

Here.

Are you sure?

Yes now get a move on; we’ve got ten seconds before we forget what we are on about.

What a nuisance, forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.

Stop bitching and take a look.

Oh my, would you believe it?

 

What was that again?

Tonight’s dinner.

Rock squid?

Yes, yummy, eh?

I hate rock squid, it like eating snot.

But it’s good for you, think of the omega three you’ll be getting.

I’d rather your omega any day.

Stop being rude and tuck in.

Blurk, yuck, do I have to?

 

I saw cousin Bluey this morning.

Where?

He was swimming by, waved at me at least I think it was a wave.

You have doubts?

It was in a perpendicular position.

Have you upset Bluey lately?

I called him conceited and selfish.

Well, he does hand around with the pack.

 

Mum, why are we school fish?

Its what we are my dear.

Have we always been like this?

Yes, our protection. When predators attack, the school protects us.

Didn’t help Leo and Maurice yesterday.

True, but some have to sacrifice for the good of all.

I’ll stick by you mum.

 

Can I go swim over there, mum?

No way, you stick with us.

But there’s something yummy to eat there.

Fastest way to get eaten son. Stay in school.

But it’s the same old day after day mum.

You swim away and get eaten then don’t come crying to me.

 

Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/06/12/50-word-thursday-24/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #31 – An Afternoon with Madge Tring.

Posted on June 13, 2019 by Michael

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My aged travelling companion, Crisp, wasn’t one for water and it came as a surprise when after a day out with a new acquaintance, Madge Tring, Crisp suggested we take up Madge’s invitation of going out on her boat to explore the lake behind our accommodation.

Crisp was apprehensive but keen to take up a new challenge. So suitably dressed in our finest sailor outfits we cast off.

Madge’s boat was an impressive craft and we sailed along merrily until a change in the weather whipped up a few waves and it was then Crisp decided enough was enough.

Her face went a shade of sickly green and before long all that could be seen of her was her posterior as her head hung over the side of the boat.

Madge negotiated the journey back to shore where we helped Crisp onto land vowing she’d never again take to the sea.

 

Written for: https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/06/12/crimsons-creative-challenge-31/

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What do you See? June 11/2019 – The Faceless Saint.

Posted on June 12, 2019 by Michael

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The Church of Saint Faceless in the town of Thud served as a reminder of the past of a time when things weren’t always as good as they are today.

Saint Faceless, patron saint of the Miserably Poor, was born Cedric of the Royal House of Thud not to be confused with the nearby Royal House of Thump.

Cedric had been blessed with privilege and basked daily in all that his life offered to him.

He became aware that many of the people in the Kingdom of Thud were miserably poor in part to the dastardly deeds of his Uncle Elijah, known to all as the Villainous Prince of Thud who exploited his workers and who discovered a quick execution and or enslavement of the youth of the kingdom put a swift end to any thoughts of rebellion.

Cedric was alarmed by the poverty he saw and set about to make some amends.

At night he would don a disguise and with a few trusty helpers go through the streets of Thud offering bowls of hot soup to the many destitute who camped on street corners and in doorways.

After a time he became known as the Faceless Saint who offered the poor some hope and something to eat.

He continued this throughout his life, never once revealing his true identity. His helpers were sworn to secrecy and understood how important it was to the community that Cedric’s identity remain secret.

Upon Cedric’s death, the truth was revealed much to the horror of the House of Thud who in essence cared little about their people. They saw Cedric’s selfless acts of kindness as an embarrassment to themselves.

But when the Parish church was built some years later, the statue of the Faceless Saint was placed above the front door.

The statue remains today as a reminder of the potential good that comes from selfless acts of kindness.

 

Written for: https://helenevaillant.com/2019/06/11/what-do-you-see-june-11-2019/

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Photo Challenge #267 Butcher’s Chopping Block Lane

Posted on June 11, 2019 by Michael

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Image: – bookbadaboom/Pikabu

I’d followed her for a few days, and she gave me the slip every time.

Where did go and where did she come from?

An innocent looking child, school back pack,

I wondered what scholarly treasure she had stowed inside?

It was in the High street I’d spot her hurrying along, her long ponytail waving in the breeze and on her lips there always seemed to be a song.

She kept to the same track each, and you’d think it easy to follow after her.

But in the side street, next to the butchers, a lane way called, Butcher’s Chopping Block was where she gave me the slip.

I watched her enter the lane, I watched her negotiate the street kids hop-scotch and then she was gone.

I thought maybe the lane was like those places in the Harry Potter stories where people walked through walls and stuff like that.

But this was real life, such things were the work of fiction and imagination.

All this went on for a week, by the end, I had become a nodding acquaintance and enjoyed my daily jaunt following along.

On Friday, she stopped and turned to nod at me in the lane way and in the blink of an eye she was gone once again.

I stood in wonder, then the strangest thing happened, her head appeared through the wall, and with a mischievous wink, she was gone again.

That was the last time I saw of her.

I’m still not sure of what I saw in the laneway. But I go there most days, in case she’s there again.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/06/11/photo-challenge-267/

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Wordle #137 – Molly Goodbum

Posted on June 11, 2019 by Michael

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This week’s words: Seize Hollowness Creak Radiance Wrinkles Massive Burden Attribute Profusion Patronize Prolong Confinement

Molly Goodbum hated getting old. Her once finest attribute, her face, had deteriorated over the years to become wrinkly and more road map than face.

It was far too late she felt to be seizing the day as life had taken on a hollowness that she felt took away any radiance she might have exuded on any given day.

As it was, she faced the daily burden of bones and muscles creaking as her feet it the floor beside her bed. It was a massive problem as her mind thought as a thirty-year-old, and her body was constantly arguing it was a seventy-year-old.

Her children had long given up on her having given in their minds a prolonged commitment to keeping her youthful and vibrant.

Even her email seemed to have it in for her with a profusion of emails suggesting this and that treatment designed to make life better if only she paid out large sums of money to do so.

So Molly Goodbum resigned herself to a life of confinement stuck in her tiny apartment, her Webster pack beside her doling out the necessary medications the doctor felt she needed to prolong her already miserable life.

Maybe blogging is an answer, a means of reaching out to the wider world? After all, I could be anyone I choose to be there.

She giggled thinking of easing the burden of life by having a little fun. ‘Iva Goodbum’ was so born, wrinkle-free, radiant and far from hollow.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/06/10/wordle-137/

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Prompts – June 9 – The Old Toolshed.

Posted on June 10, 2019 by Michael

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Prompt B (sentence starter): “Can I poke around?”

“Sure.”

“So what’s this?”

“That my dear is a thingame.”

“Oh what’s it for?”

“Glad you asked it’s for fixing left handed bolts on right-handed nuts.”

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of stuff.”

“Taken me years to collect it all.”

“And what do you call this?”

“Hilda.”

“Hilda?”

“Yes it looks like a wrench doesn’t it, but it works better when I call it Hilda and watch this when I caress the handle. Hear that?”

“No.”

“Listen, it’s purring.”

“Really, you can hear that?”

“Of course, you should be here when I get Ralph out.”

“Ralph?”

“My nail hammer. Wow does he like being turned on. Goes off with a real bang.”

“I see. So what is this?”

“That’s a whatsit.”

“What does it do?”

“Whatsits!”

“As in?”

“As in any time you need a good whatsit, that’s your tool.”

“Its all a bit insane isn’t it.”

“Ah, my wife says that you don’t have to be insane to live here, but it sure helps.”

“That’s not funny, you know.”

“I guess not.”

“This tool has someone’s name on it.”

“Oh yes old whosit leant to me about twenty years ago, I must give it back to him.”

“I think he died last year.”

“Did he? Poor old bugger, he never looked healthy, you know.”

“So I guess you’ll keep this then?”

“Not sure, I’ve got a few thingame’s.”

“Can you ever have enough?”

“Good point, I’ll stack it over here with the other thingames. You never know when a thingame or a whatsit will come in handy when you need to fix a wigwam for a goose’s bridle.”

 

Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/06/09/prompts-june-9/

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Reena’s Exploration Challenge #90 – Compromise

Posted on June 8, 2019 by Michael

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“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

We were six years old at the time.

“Is that it?” I exclaimed after she’d dropped her pants.

“Is that it?” she retorted upon seeing what I had to offer.

Boy and girl bits, we decided were best left in our respective pants.

Six years later we’d grown some

Puberty was hitting us both,

Her chest was starting to bulge

I was beginning to have stirrings in my pants

Our parents had warned us about treating each other ‘Inappropriately’,

As they put it.

For us, compromise took on another form

She wanted to play in my team,

My mates didn’t like the idea,

She was a girl, after all.

But she could hit a ball better than most of us,

So, she became an asset.

Because she was so good,

My neighbour, insisted on having an extra team member

When she played on my team.

Compromise was reached, we were all happy,

And better still, we always won.

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2019/06/06/reenas-exploration-challenge-90/

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TELL ME A TALE IN (EXACTLY) 120 WORDS

Posted on June 6, 2019 by Michael

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Today’s prompt is A strange thing that happened to you when you were sick.  

One time I was so ill I didn’t know which part of me to point at the toilet.

My youngest daughter had asked me to baby sit her kids a few days before I fell ill. There was no way that was going to happen, so I asked my son to step in. He was staying at a friend’s so I picked him up at 4.30am. I was awake enough to go collect him, sick bucket at the ready.

I took him to my daughters and turned the car around for home. On the way back I used the bucket, and that was the last sick episode for me. I slept the rest of the day and, gratefully slowly recovered.

 

Written for: https://rantingalong.blog/2019/06/06/joelles-tales-first-thursday-of-the-month-tmat120-writing-prompt-for-june-6-2019/

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Tale Weaver #226 – Reunion – June 6th

Posted on June 6, 2019 by Michael

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I couldn’t express at the time the trepidation I felt at meeting the one we now refer to as the Prodigal Daughter.

Given up at birth by her mother and ever since a memory held close within the bond between mother and husband.

The daughter’s mother came from a small town and upon hearing of her pregnancy whisked her away so as not bring shame on their family name. The daughter disappeared, and the community believed she was away at University.

Upon the child’s birth, the small infant girl was given up for adoption. There was no other alternative. So began a long thirty or so years before a resolution was reached and reunion occurred.

I was not the father of the child, but I was privy to the emotional heartbreak that occurred with her mother.

My reunion with her took place at my eldest son’s wedding. My marriage had ended some years before that day, but I had been over joyed at the response of my own children to the discovery and appearance of this daughter.

She had a resemblance to her mother and my youngest daughter. I was so very pleased to hear she had had a good life. Her adoptive parents were her mum and dad, as they should have been and she was pleased she had been given opportunity in life.

We were able to chat for some time and for me to feel good about meeting her and knowing she was ok and felt welcomed into my family.

For her birth mother, it was the end of a long period of wonder and grief at having given her daughter up. It did have an effect on her in terms of her connection with the children we later had.

The reunion has been constant over the years since, the daughter has visited several times, even come to my place once with her own three daughters.

I often wonder how hard it must have been for her to take that step to reach out to her birth mother when in reality her own life was good, and she had grown up in a loving environment. There must have been that thought of what am I letting myself in for by doing this?

My own children have embraced her, a step-sister and an older one was something my eldest daughter has loved, someone she can look up too.

In this case, the reunion was a good one. Pleasing in so many ways.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/06/06/tale-weaver-226-reunion-june-6th/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #30 – Crisp’s Brother Ned

Posted on June 6, 2019 by Michael

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Crisp, my aged companion, was talkative after seeing the brochure for the Rustic Farm tour.

She’d been brought up on a farm and loved to tell me stories about the farm.

She had a brother Ned, who when out on the tractor one day spotted a large goanna climbing a nearby tree.

Ned took his shotgun and shot the lizard. It fell to the ground and believing he had killed it took it back to the homestead to show it off.

The young Crisp saw her brother approaching holding the goanna. As he came closer announcing he had killed a big one Crisp noticed a flicker in its eye and told him it wasn’t dead. Ned eager to prove himself right placed the goanna on the ground whereupon it came to life and scurried up under the house.

It found a spot where no one could get at it and subsequently died.

The smell lasted weeks, and Ned never again took on the role of goanna protector.

 

Written for: https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/06/05/crimsons-creative-challenge-30/

 

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