Photo Challenge #252 – Nothingness.

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Google Images

It happened during the advanced meditation class.

Not content with the standard position

They decided to stretch their physical abilities.

He stood on his hands

Then she on hers.

Silently they gazed inward

Their respective mantras resonating

Their focus on the meditation of nothingness.

He opened his eyes and looked into hers

She opened her eyes and was captivated by him.

His beard all but tickled her chin

She concentrated to push away such thoughts.

“You have beautiful nipples,” he said

She looked up, she was still intact.

“How? What?” her mouth was stammering.

“I was looking straight through you

They interrupted my meditation,

I thought it best to share that with you.”

He fell silent, his eyes closed,

She thought of her nipples,

Inwardly she smiled, they were nice

As her mind slipped into nothingness.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/02/26/photo-challenge-252/

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Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #2 – Another Case Solved.

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Image: ColiN00B@Pixabay.com.

Detectives Fang and Dango knew the case they were assigned to was going to take some cracking.

“We need to spread some light on this crime,” said Fang looking desperately around the crime scene.

The room was dark, so Dango suggested they turn on the light.

“You’re a genius Dango,” said Fang looking around.

The room was covered in blood. Not an inch of the room had been spared a smattering.

“I’m guessing something violent happened here,” announced Dango.

“What makes you say that?”

“Just a hunch.”

“I like it when you have a hunch Dango, usually means you’re on to something.”

“It’s the blood. It’s telling us something.”

“Like a crime’s been committed?”

“Something like that. What do you make of the body?”

“Dead. Loss of blood. Head wound. Looks suspicious.”

“Wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Could be. What was his name?”

“Knuckles Dwyer. Known criminal, a record a mile long.”

“Obviously someone didn’t like him.”

“I don’t think anyone liked Knuckles, he was the scum of the earth.”

“Enough to kill him?”

“I’m looking at his body, and I think he was killed a few times over.”

“So who might our suspects be?”

“Everyone who knew him I’d say.”

“Look at the head wound, what caused that do you think?”

“A number four wrench?”

“Exactly, we are looking for a woman I’d say.”

“A woman?”

“Yep, five foot two, eyes of blue.”

“You’re amazing Dango how’d you come to that conclusion?”

“There’s a woman over there wiping the blood off a number four wrench.”

“Brilliant Dango. Dolores Reed, you are under arrest for the murder of Knuckles Dwyer.”

“Ok you got me,” screamed Dolores, “but he had it comin’. The scumbag was ripping me and my girls off every week. It was a matter of him or us.”

“Another crime solved Fang,” said Dango, cuffing Dolores and sending her on the long trip up the river.

 

Written for: https://fivedotoh.com/2019/02/25/fandangos-flash-fiction-challenge-2/

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Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #1 – The Image from Smither’s Glade.

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Image: Watanska at DeviantArt.com.

The photo in the local museum created a lot of interest.

The origin of the subject was raised by many, as the young girl was not a local.

The photographer was Muriel Sparks an eccentric woman from the edge of town.

There was something very alluring about the scene. It was a study of innocence.

The location was the glade on Smither’s farm a well-known spot for photographers.

How the photograph got to be in the museum was a mystery. The museum was not one for photographs that didn’t have some historical interest.

An unknown girl in a well-known glade, nothing new in that.

Despite this, the photograph attracted a lot of visitors and the museum recorded record numbers passing through its doors.

Over a period of days, it was noticed that the girl appeared to be moving. First, it was her hand, then her feet and finally the appearance of a third sheep at the top of the image.

Added to that the tune she was playing, a pastoral melody, became obvious to you the longer you gazed at it.

It was indeed a mystery and one the museum was to long benefit from.

 

Written for: https://fivedotoh.com/2019/02/18/fandangos-flash-fiction-challenge-1/

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Wordle #122 – Setting up a Date

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This week’s words: Please Cloth Branch Perturbation Dangle Folly Attractancy (n)) the capacity of, especially of a pheromone, to attract) Bolt Treasure Proceed Courtyard Place

“You can’t please everyone you know.” She said this in all sincerity. “There’s little point in trying to please everyone, simply because we are different.”

“We aren’t made of the same cloth are we?” I replied. “Some folk are as smooth as silk and some rough and tatty like a worn piece of cloth.”

“You have to stop being so rigid and branch out, look at the world as being a giant tree and each branch is there for you to explore.”

“I’m wracked with anxious perturbation at the thought. The feeling surprises me as I never thought of myself as a person given to perturbationist thought.”

“Well if you like I can help by dangling a reward in front of you. Imagine how you might behave with such a carrot dangling in front of you.”

“I’m not sure such a thing would be any more than folly. As it is I’m sure such acts of folly only result in ridicule.”

“The girl I most fancy is Marcy. When I’m near her, I can feel my attractancy towards her. I sometimes think my attractancy is more hindrance than benefit as I’m pretty obvious in how I feel.”

“Trouble is I’ve seen you bolt when she does show you any interest. I think I might need to bolt your feet to the floor.”

“She’s such treasure is Marcy, have you seen the way she wrinkles her forehead, that in itself is something I treasure every time I see it.”

Well, I think you should summon up your courage and proceed to woo her. What have you got to lose? Proceed with confidence, you never know what she might say.”

“I think I’ll invite her to dinner at the Courtyard café. That’s a good idea and a safe place to meet. We can sit in the courtyard and have introduction drinks.”

“That’s a great place to meet. Go ahead and ask her and don’t place her or yourself in any sort of awkward situation.”

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/02/25/wordle-122/

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Sunday Photo Fiction – February 24, 2019 – The Village Dandy

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Photo Courtesy of Susan Spaulding

When he died they donated his shoes to the museum. He was our village dandy, a man given to ostentation and show.

When I saw his shoes on display I remembered a man who attended the village social functions dressed up, heavily perfumed and so often wearing pink knickerbockers with the shoes he became famous for.

He claimed to have had the shoes especially made for him by an exclusive cobbler in Paris. He had a bunch of stories about his clothing, how he’d come by this piece and that.

But I knew his mum made a lot of them.

He was such a character we humoured him his tales and acknowledged his right to prance up the main street on Saturday morning in his red outfit with matching red shoes. Though the red paint, which from to time peeled away from the leather, did give a bit away.

The last time I saw him was at the Handicapped Ball, dressed in his best-polished pink, his hair bobbed and his shoes dazzling as always. He swanned around the dance floor, dancing with himself mostly, and I later wondered, if he knew this was to be his last night out.

 

Written for: https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2019/02/23/sunday-photo-fiction-february-24-2019/

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Sunday Writing Prompt “Campfire Ghost Stories” – The Camp-leaders Story.

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The camp leader gathered his charges inside his tent to tell them of the next day’s activities.

Once he had outlaid the next day’s schedule, he told them that in the tradition of such camps he had a story to tell before they went off to bed.

The spot where they were camping was famous for a time many years before when a family camped there on their way to settling in a district another day’s trekking away.

During the night it appears the family were attacked and not one survived.

It was several weeks later before another family happened upon the remains of the family’s camp. The sight of the destruction and the manner of death haunted the discovering family, and they relayed the story to the police when they arrived at their destination.

The deceased family were laid to rest in graves dug by their discoverers, and a stone cairn was erected in their memory.

Over the years stories of the screams of the family were reported by campers, and soon the area was known as a place to avoid.

The camp leader said he was telling the story in case anyone heard screams during the night.

The campers said it was a great ghost story and settled down for the night.

In the morning the camp leader found his campers huddled around the campfire, bleary-eyed and somewhat disorientated.

Not one had slept, they found themselves crowded into one tent determined to stay alert, as they were sure they heard screams off in the distance from where the camp leader had said the cairn was.

It was around 3am when one of the campers screamed noticing there was a bloodstain on the door of their tent. She was also adamant she saw a bloodied hand reach inside the flap of the tent before she screamed alerting the others.

So freaked were they there was no more sleep that night.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/02/24/sunday-writing-prompt-campfire-ghost-stories/

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Thursday photo prompt: Timeless #writephoto – Ned’s Shack

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Old Ned lived on the edge of town in a run-down old shack. How he survived the summers and winters was beyond me, as his abode must have been stinking hot in summer and freezing cold in winter.

Ever since I was a kid, Ned had looked the same. A timeless character happy to exist in his world and seemingly preserved against the fortunes of nature that came his way.

One year a bushfire ravaged the countryside and Ned had to be rescued and coaxed out of his place, as he was adamant he would be spared the flames.

The next day they took him back to the smouldering ruin of what was once his hut. Ned shrugged and immediately started to assemble what he could to re-build and live once again as he always had.

“People expect me to be here,” he explained, “I’m a landmark you know.”

And so within a few weeks, his shack was where it had always been, a tad scorched, but Ned was happy and ready to carry on in his own timeless fashion.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2019/02/21/thursday-photo-prompt-timeless-writephoto/

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Good News Friday Challenge! – Rain at Last.

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It started to rain yesterday.

This may not be the greatest news to hear, but in my part of the world after an oppressive summer of continuous hot days, the relief is wonderful.

As summer draws to an end we are feeling the season change, the nights are getting cooler, so much better for sleeping, we don’t have to run the air-con as much and so our electric bill when it comes might be manageable.

Today my niece is being married and even if there is rain about I don’t think it will be a huge issue, as the parched earth around us needs a good drink.

 

Written for: https://pennywilsonwrites.com/2019/02/22/good-news-friday-challenge/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #15 – The Bilious Sunflower

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“DO NOT COME NEAR THE FLOWER OF THE BILIOUS SUNFLOWER!”

At the end of the trail we’d been following all day stood the sign. We should have taken more notice since it was dripping in red paint.

Below the sign it read: “If you do you will suffer a terrible pain where your precious bits will wither and shrink from your sight, never to return. Be warned.

Yours in personal safety

Cristos Kempos Keeper of the Sunflower.

As experienced bushwalkers, the sign looked like the prank of some kid, and we laughed it off as nothing more than that. Ahead of us lay a field of sunflowers resplendent in yellow.

There were a few deadish ones that appeared to be spewing their insides out, and we took them to be the ones to avoid.

My companion being the curious person she was moved close to one of the deader plants to inspect it. As she did so a piece of the spewed out insides attached itself to her face.

She wiped it quickly away and laughed that the plant had attacked her.

We moved away and found a camping spot and settled down to boil the billy for our dinner, soup and lentils.

No sooner had she taken a mouthful of her dinner than she bent over, wracked with pain she fell down and within seconds was being sick on the ground.

The initial attack was violent and uncontrollable, and she lay there as I cleaned up the mess in front of her. She soon recovered, and we wondered if it was the Bilious Sunflower that had so affected her.

She picked up during the next hour, and we decided to climb into our sleeping bags and retire for the night as we had a long trek planned for the next day.

An hour later she was ill again. This time the attack took a lot of energy from her, and she lay in her sleeping bag gasping for some time before sleep overcame her.

I awoke in the morning to find her already up. I went outside but couldn’t see her anywhere. Her stuff was still where she’d left it the night before, and there were no footprints around the camp.

It was the squeaking that alerted me. Looking down I found my companion. She had shrunk to the size of a mouse. She looked desperate, which under the circumstances she had every reason to be. How were we to explain this when we arrived home?

I gathered her up, and after emptying a matchbox, I placed her in the top pocket of my shirt and made plans to return the way we had come.

“Maybe it will wear off,” I suggested to her plaintive cries for an answer. “The sign did say they’d never return,” I offered realising that wasn’t helping and making her even more hysterical.

I thought I’d best try and find Mr Kempos, the Sunflower keeper, and see if he had any answers.

We set off, me lugging all our stuff and she squeaking uncontrollably in my pocket.

 

Written for: https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/02/20/crimsons-creative-challenge-15/

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Reena’s Exploration Challenge #75 – In Love With Your Mind.

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She looked at the word then exclaimed: “That’s why I’m attracted to you. It’s your intelligence. I so love your brain.”

“Well,” I replied, “I was hoping there was a bit more of me you liked apart from my brain.”

“Oh there is, there is,” she retorted, “I love the way you say things, I love the way you walk and talk, how you look deeply and sensitively into things, you are so different to the other men I have had in my life.”

I put my arms around her and suggested we play another game of scrabble. I was a bit of an obsessive about scrabble, and she knew it. I could understand why she was reluctant, as she just couldn’t compete with me and got frustrated when I put down a triple point word.

“How about we have lunch,” she suggested, “I’ve had enough of pandering to your superior intellect for one day.”

“Ok,” I said, “I want to read my new Physics Journal, there’s an article on the emergence of quantum physics as a means of understanding the universe.”

“You know there’s a point in me saying your intelligence is sexually arousing, but if you labour it, then it becomes just down right irritating. Balance, remember that, balance, there’s a place for intelligence and there’s a place for normality. We’ve talked about it before, so keep working on it.”

“I can be painful can’t I,” I said thinking I had overstepped the mark.

“I love you with a passion,” she said, “but you have to know when enough is enough.”

As she went off to prepare the lunch, I thought about what she had said. She had as many degrees as me, just in different disciplines, but she possessed what I didn’t have, wisdom and humility.

The older I get, the more I realise there is far more to intelligence than University degrees or honours, its more about the view you have of the world, of yourself and others that makes you connect and understand the world around you instead of believing everything revolves around yourself.

It was then I realised I too was in love with her mind, her wisdom and ability to look past the rubbish I sprouted in the belief that I sounded smarter than I probably was.

I determined to look more inwardly from now on.

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2019/02/21/reenas-exploration-challenge-75/

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