100 Word Wednesday: Week 108 – My Aunt.

Posted on February 14, 2019 by Michael

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It was never going to easy saying goodbye.

The visit like so many had never been long enough especially when on this visit I had connected with my Aunt like ever before.

She lived in the city, and as a country girl, I loved the hustle bustle of the streets and the fashion shops spread along the High Street all within walking distance of her apartment.

I spent my afternoons wandering along looking in the windows, dreaming.

But all good things come to, and end and my Aunt assured me there would be opportunity next year to visit her again.

 

Written for: https://bikurgurl.com/2019/02/14/100-word-wednesday-week-108/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #14 – The Road to Nowhere.

Posted on February 14, 2019 by Michael

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The sign said “Nowhere 25 kilometres.”

I did chuckle at the thought of being on the road to Nowhere. I was curious to see what lay at the end of the road.

It wasn’t as if it was the road less travelled or anything like that, the deep wheel ruts in the gravel surface suggested the road was used more often than not. The road less travelled seemed to be the one that disappeared through the broken gate at the top of the road.

But as life was a series of adventures going nowhere was going to be another.

The road passed through beautiful farming land, cattle grazed in many paddocks and in others farmers had planted feed crops, and in several paddocks, the rolled bails sat patiently awaiting collection.

Apart from the livestock, I didn’t see any other living beings. As the going was slow due to the condition of the road I had to concentrate on the road as in some places the potholes seemed to be joined into huge holes in the road and I was fearful of damaging my car and breaking down as I thought it might be literally the middle of nowhere.

Around a corner, I saw a sign announcing: “You are almost Nowhere”. At least, I thought, if nothing else out here, they had a sense of humour.

My car negotiated a steep hill before descending into a little valley and at the bottom of the hill was a sign, “Welcome to Nowhere”.

I stopped beside the sign and stepped out of my car. The valley stretched out in front of me, the country similar to what I had been driving through. There was no indication of a town.

I drove a little further and saw signs saying: “Nowhere Groceries”, “Nowhere Barber shop”, “Nowhere State School” and finally a sign saying, “Thanks for visiting Nowhere, please call again.”

Besides the final sign was a small box and a notice that read: “Please leave your thoughts Nowhere in the box, we are building a bigger and better town”.

What a bizarre place I thought as I drove on leaving the last remnants of the ‘town’ behind me. Ahead I saw the road disappear into the hills and billboard announcing “Somewhere – 10 Kilometres”.

I couldn’t wait to see what Somewhere had to offer.

 

Written for: https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/02/13/crimsons-creative-challenge-14/

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Tale Weaver # 210 – Using a quote – 14th February. -Emptiness

Posted on February 14, 2019 by Michael

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“The circle of an empty day is brutal and at night it tightens around your neck like a noose.”

Elena Ferrante – “The Days of Abandonment”.

She shut the novel she was reading and thought how the words summed up her life. As it was the novel’s tile, “The Days of Abandonment” seemed so fitting when she thought of the past few weeks.

She’d gone from the euphoria of being in love with a man she thought was the perfect one for her only to discover he was planning to leave her for a younger woman.

She’d thrown herself into the relationship; basked in the affection, he showed towards her and never believed there was any impediment.

When she thought about it, there had been a change in recent times. References to her losing her girlish beauty, the wrinkles around her eyes and neck and the one she now thought of as cutting, she had slowed down, and she knew it in so many ways.

She found herself sitting for longer, her morning walks she still did, but they were shorter, she found it easier to find an excuse for staying in bed.

Bed was where she found the space to be alone, her husband slept beside her, but their interactions were nothing like they once were. He snored away the night, rarely touched her and she began to feel as though she was more unsightly than she wanted to think about.

She blamed herself, her inability to care for herself, to attract her husband’s ire was a great disappointment to her, and she would resolve each morning to try and make it up to him.

But every attempt was met with derision. He laughed at her efforts to spruce herself up, told her, that her time had long past, and she should get on with more age appropriate things like her bridge and knitting.

She resigned herself to a life of sharing a house with him, but with nothing physical happening, she was she believed unlovable as she aged and took to staying away from him for fear she would attract his displeasure.

The ultimate feeling of emptiness in her life came when her husband undertook surgery on his shoulder and needed her assistance to shower when he returned home.

In order to do so, she undressed him and herself. They used to love showering together, but on this occasion, there was no response from him. His flaccid self was there on display and despite her soft talking to him as she lathered him and then rinsed his body he rebuked her by telling her to get on with it and get him out and dressed.

Devastated she never tried again. She continued to wash him but did so dressed and avoided any unnecessary contact with him, as he seemed to prefer it that way.

As soon as he was strong enough to manage by himself, he told her he didn’t need her anymore. He started to go out and stay out until late at night. He explained it all as receiving a better offer than hanging around the house with a tired out old crone like herself.

Then last evening he announced he was leaving for good. The news rattled her like nothing previous ever did. She thought he was joking, that he was just scaring her, but when he emerged with his suitcase she realised he wasn’t kidding around.

He left without saying goodbye and left her feeling shattered.

In the days that followed she felt doubly vulnerable at night, alone in a house that held so many cherished memories. Every creak of the floorboards, rattle of a window and ring of the telephone filled her with fear and dread.

She sat up in bed holding the novel she was reading reflecting on her abandonment and gasping at the feeling of emptiness gnawing at her heart.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/02/14/tale-weaver-210-using-a-quote-14th-february/

 

 

 

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What do you See? Feb/12/2019 – Journey Through Life

Posted on February 13, 2019 by Michael

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Life is full of challenges,

From the moment we wake up of a morning

We are confronted by choice.

Choice is the labyrinth of life

There is not always a single decision to be made,

Wouldn’t it be easier if there was?

Making the wrong choice can lead us to certain doom,

Or if we’re lucky, success.

Along the way, we are challenged by such things as fear and uncertainty.

Often we stumble along, hoping for the best,

But the single factor holding us back

Is fear, our concern for getting it wrong.

We forget that through stuffing up

We grow, we learn, we become better,

Principally in ourselves,

And then to those around us,

And isn’t that the point of our journey through life?

 

Written for: https://helenevaillant.com/2019/02/12/what-do-you-see-feb-12-2019/

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Twittering Tales #123 – 12 February 2019 – Candy Hearts

Posted on February 12, 2019 by Michael

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It was Valentine’s Day and he wanted to give his girl a sign of his love and affection.
She had been having a tough time, so he bought her some lollies and tied on a red ribbon.
Squealing with delight she threw her arms around him and said it was the best Valentine’s Day ever. (276 characters)

Written for: https://katmyrman.com/2019/02/12/twittering-tales-123-12-february-2019/

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JSW Prompt 2-11-2019 – The Art Lesson

Posted on February 11, 2019 by Michael

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The art teacher had come in early to set up for the morning class. She was excited about the forthcoming lesson, as it was a departure from the usual humdrum of form and shape.

Today she had set an individual project on each student’s easel.

She had put a lot of thought into each task. She’d questioned them about their likes and dislikes and had set the respective tasks reflective of those discussions.

She knew she had a bright bunch of students and had high expectations.

When they arrived, there was the usual hubbub as they settled at their respective seats. She called for attention and outlined the task assigned to each one.

They looked as one at the small slips of blue post-it attached to their easels. There was a moment’s silence as they took in the task at hand.

Around the room, there were murmurs of surprise, a few giggles and quite a few questions. She answered their queries and then left them to their own devices to decide the medium they would use.

The freedom she gave them excited some, but frightened others as they were used to more structured lessons.

By the end of the period, each student had considered his and her task and had formulated a plan of exploration.

Later as the teacher packed up the room, she felt excited by the prospect of what was to come.

 

Written for: https://athling2001.wordpress.com/2019/02/11/jsw-prompt-2-11-2019/

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Wordle #120 – Esther Grimalkin

Posted on February 11, 2019 by Michael

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This week’s words: Ether   Grimalkin- an old female cat: an ill-tempered old woman Attic   Dusk Augur- https://www.dictionary.com/browse/augur?s=t Curse Cabal- https://www.dictionary.com/browse/cabal?s=t Zodiac Sign Dripping Tattered Misgiving Strangleweed- The dodder is also known by the folk name “strangleweed” because it wraps itself around other plants and inserts itself into their vascular systems.

Esther Grimalkin was proud of her name. After all, hers was one of the few names she knew to get a mention in a Shakespearean play. Admittedly it was in reference to a cat in Macbeth, but it was there all the same.

That being the case you could be misgiven for thinking she was a cat lady or for that matter a cranky old crone. She was none of those but rather a tall and elegant woman who like so many tall and elegant women had her fair share of secrets.

She believed her family to be cursed. It all stemmed from the reference to Grimalkin in the ‘Scottish play’ as it was known. That being the case it did not augur so well when she read her family cabal and the strange behaviours at dusk. There were intriguing mysteries surrounding her family, a lot of mentioning of ether, coming from out of the ether and why ether was such an important factor in her families past.

In the attic of her house were stored the family documents, contained in tattered folders of books all dripping with age and controversy.

Each volume she discovered was tied up with lengths of strangleweed, which for reasons unknown was the floral symbol of her family.

She found it all a bit sinister and decided to piece together her family story. It all had something to do with the zodiac sign one was born into. Esther Grimalkin was a Libra, and she liked being a Libra for no other reason than she knew she was a tad indecisive and that quality she thought was enough for her to set aside the thought of a curse on the family name.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/02/11/wordle-120/

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What do you See? Feb/5/2019 – So unlikely…

Posted on February 11, 2019 by Michael

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So unlikely yet so likely,

I looked again to see what I thought was an illusion.

 

In the tent sat the boy who hated girls

He played his hand, joined in the laughter

I was amazed as he gave women a hard time

His female teachers disliked him with a passion.

 

So unlikely yet so pleasing,

I looked again to see what I thought was an illusion.

 

He looked up as if he saw no problem,

The girls called on him to deal

His joy was obvious, his face alight with acceptance,

There was a soft side to him after all.

 

So unlikely yet so satisfying,

I looked again to see what I thought was an illusion.

 

On return to school, he was a different boy

He appeared relaxed as if a burden had been removed

He was confident, more personable

His female teachers saw and delighted in the new him.

 

So unlikely yet so affirming,

I looked again to see what I thought was an illusion.

 

Written for: https://helenevaillant.com/2019/02/05/what-do-you-see-feb-5-2019/

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Sunday Writing Prompt “Everyday Objects” Miss Marble’s Stirring Spoons

Posted on February 10, 2019 by Michael

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Miss Marble, a witch, at 46 Grimace Street liked her kitchen utensils, in particular, her wooden stirring spoons. They were unique, and she’d had them a long time. It helped that she had invented a potion to keep them in tiptop condition all these years.

When she was young and living with her mother and learning the craft of witchery there lived a little way from them a man called Bernard Naff. This was in the days before Grimace Street existed when the road outside Miss Marble’s was known as the road west and Nr Naff had a small shack a few hundred metres from Miss Marbles place.

Mr Naff was a recluse, a hermit who had not much to do with anyone except on the one day in the month when a market was held in the village. It was the market you could find him selling the handmade utensils he carved.

Being a neighbour, the young Miss Marble would visit Mr Naff from time to time careful not to interrupt his meditation time. He sat outside in the afternoons carving a variety of objects. Miss Marble was intrigued by his skill, and in time Mr Naff gave her one of the kitchen spoons he carved many of. She asked him if he would make her a larger spoon, one she and her mother could use to stir the cauldrons.

Mr Naff so obliged and Miss Marble went home to proudly show her mother their latest acquisition. Miss Marble’s mother was impressed but reminded her daughter that often the chemicals they concocted ate through the stirrers they used and she was frequently looking for new ones.

This set Miss Marble on a mission to produce a potion that would protect the new stirring spoons.

Miss Marble being the ingenious witch she was soon perfected a potion to safeguard the stirring spoons.

Once Mr Naff passed away, there was no one else they knew of who made kitchen spoons quite like he did and so she was very particular in caring for the ones she had.

She had them hanging in her kitchen and the people who visited her over the years often commented on them and queried from where she had acquired them.

“Relics from the past,” she would say, “they don’t make them like that anymore.”

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/02/10/sunday-writing-prompt-everyday-objects/

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February 7: Flash Fiction Challenge – Pathways

Posted on February 10, 2019 by Michael

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February 7, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a sign. It can be a posted sign, a universal sign, a wonder. Go where the prompt leads.

The signs from the beginning pointed in the direction of possible disaster. Turn left; turn right, some flashing bigger than others.

But as a smart young person starting out such warnings went unheeded as he thought he knew it all.

As he stumbled his way through life, tripping up, stuffing up, making the going as tough as he humanly could, he was determined to pick his own pathway despite the best of advice.

He should have known and taken notice when venturing into a new relationship that the last sign he saw would say: “Proceed at your own risk.”

 

Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2019/02/07/february-7-flash-fiction-challenge/

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