Sunday Writing “It’s all in the title” – Eliza Happenstance

automaton

Image: Almacon @Deviant Art

Choose one or more titles and construct a poem or story around it

Voices in Brimstone
The Dissonant Heart
Wraiths at the Window
Secrets Only Children Know
The Automaton Who Became Self-Aware
The Perils of a Guilty Conscious
The Virtue of Silence
The Crying River
Death of Desire
Eliza Happenstance

Mr and Mrs Happenstance lived a life that was curiously a series of coincidences. Such events appeared to go hand in hand with their name.

Their first child, Rupert, was born on the 1st of April, their second Monica, on the 2nd of April and their third, Ralph on the 3rd April.

So it became clear to the Happenstances that their fourth child would be born on the 4th April. Everyone held their collective breath as the day approached. They held it even more so when the day past and the child did not appear. The child, Eliza, did appear on the 6th April and the Happenstances were not sure as to what to do about it.

Where the other children were all orderly, well behaved and predictable, Eliza was none of those things. She cried a lot as a baby when the colic grabbed her, she refused to eat, she was an unhappy child, and the parents blamed themselves, as it was clear the coincidence of having a child out of sequence was having an effect on them.

Eliza’s siblings had little time for a child who in their opinion failed to toe the family line. So Eliza was left to her own devices, confined to a playpen with hand me down toys and clothes.

So Eliza grew up in an atmosphere of neglect and isolation. Where her brothers and sister went on to professional careers, Eliza’s parents were not at all sure what Eliza might amount to.

After a school career that could best be described as forgettable Eliza’s father sat her down to discuss her future. Eliza wasn’t interested in a life that required further study; she was, as it turned out a girl who expressed herself best through art.

Her father being basically a wise man suggested she pursue her interest in art and so began a very unconventional life as an artist.

Her parents set up a studio in the back of their house, and Eliza set to work. Her work was exhibited, she also engaged in galleries across the land and to her father’s surprise did learn about the many facets of art, the making and the selling.

As time went on it became clear the there was little if any sense of coincidence about Eliza, which in hindsight all members of the family came to embrace. They liked the notion of coincidence being replaced by random choice, as that allowed them to move into the arbitrary as after a lifetime of coincidence the thought of the unexpected was a breath of fresh air.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/02/03/sunday-writing-its-all-in-the-title/

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

Reena’s Exploration Challenge #72 – “The Perfect Man”

rec72

She thought of him the perfect man,

Good looking, educated, a man with skills

A man she liked to be with.

Her attraction was total, he dominated her thoughts

And he enjoyed her adoration.

They courted, and he impressed her father,

He was everything the father wanted in a husband

He would be the ideal son-in-law.

They married on a bright and sunny day,

The bride looked beautiful,

Friends and family came from near and far

It was a wonderful day of celebration.

Once they said their farewells

Drove off into their married life

Things began to change.

He questioned her conversation with men at the wedding

Demanded her attention, queried what she was up to

When out of the room doing what women must do.

Their home became her prison,

He paid her attention, solely for his own gain

He neglected her, found fault,

Blamed her for everything he saw was wrong.

She came to realise he had lured her in,

Said all the things she wanted to hear

Gave her things she said she needed,

But in marriage, he was a demon.

Left alone while he sought the life of the single man

What she had she done to deserve such shoddy treatment?

Her naivety embarrassed her

She withdrew from her social circle,

He found that further cause to criticise.

One night after the pub he beat her

Left her bruised and bloodied

Her ego in tatters, she took action,

Rang, her father, told him her circumstance.

He came and took her away

Arranged a new life,

Set in motion the process to free her from his oppression.

The husband demanded her return

Said everything was her fault, she was a terrible wife

But truth bore out, she took revenge

She financially ruined him.

The idiot never saw it coming.

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2019/01/31/reenas-exploration-challenge-72/

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 17 Comments

January 31: Flash Fiction Challenge – Sea Mist.

workingtemplateforffchallenges289929

January 31, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about sea mist. How does it create an environment for a story? It can set the stage or take the stage. Go where the prompt leads.

It had been a hot day, and we looked forward to the evening BBQ. We lived in a place where you always carried a coat in the back of the car no matter the time of year.

As we sat around after dinner, we saw it roll in. At first, it was a cloud on the hilltops but then we watched it rolling down towards us, and soon we were enveloped.

The temperature quickly dropped, so we grabbed our coats as the damp and cool took over.

The evening sea mist was a natural phenomenon I always marvelled at.

 

Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2019/02/01/january-31-flash-fiction-challenge/

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

Tale Weaver #208 – Collapse – 31st January –

img_0070

I watched as he walked from the car to the pathology clinic, request form in hand. It was a routine cholesterol check.

I watched in dismay as he collapsed holding onto the shop front as he fell.

I jumped from the car and ran to his aid. His legs had crumpled under him, his eyes were shut, he was motionless.

My first thought was to roll him onto his side, to check for vital signs, all my CPR training came back to me.

I shouted at him, no response, I felt for a pulse, no result, I rolled him onto his back looked into his face, there was nothing happening.

I could feel the adrenalin kicking in as I started CPR. Suddenly there were people around me, I cried out for someone to get help.

Thirty compressions, two breaths. Then again and again.

A person knelt beside me said they’d do the breaths, I kept up the compressions. A nurse from the pathology clinic came out said an ambulance was on the way. Within seconds I could hear the sirens. I prayed for them to hurry.

Then another person seeing my growing distress said they’d take over the compressions, and I moved away, sat beside him my mind in turmoil, what more can I do?

The ambulance arrived and took over. They had a defibrillator, I stood back, they checked his pulse, his eyes, called his name, asked me some details which I answered but I don’t remember what I said.

They had him on their gurney and in the back of their wagon, and I got in with him as the officer hooked him up to what they had to keep him alive during the trip to the hospital.

My mind was still in a daze, I could hear the sirens wailing, begging the traffic to get out of the way and give us a passage through.

At the hospital, medicine took over, and I was sent to sit and wait. A nurse came and asked me more questions, and again I mumbled something, I hoped it was articulate.

Beside me, a daughter appeared, asked what had happened.

I told her he collapsed, that I tried CPR until I couldn’t stand any longer. I was worried I too might collapse.

So together we waited. There wasn’t a lot to say as my mind was flooded with images of a small baby all those years ago struggling for life only to find it being repeated thirty years later.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/01/31/tale-weaver-208-collapse-31st-january/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , , | 27 Comments

FINISH THE STORY — THE CIRCUS PART 6

c32e9cf5-b0fc-46a5-817c-a5629f2ce0b4

Teresa, The Haunted Wordsmith, has started another one of her intriguing stories where she gets things started, tags another blogger to pick up where she left off, and then that blogger picked someone else to keep it going.

To get us started, here’s what Teresa wrote:

Andy sat in the front row every night and watched the small family circus perform. There were clowns, acrobats, dog tricks, and even a high-wire walking monkey. His favourite though was the juggler. Andy watched as he threw balls, flaming torches, rings, and knives in the air and caught them with ease. Everyone in the circus seemed so happy and nice. He longed to join them.

Late one night after the final performance, Andy mustered the nerve to find the circus owner who travelled with them.

“I’ll do anything. Please let me join you.”

Mr Tall looked at the scrawny boy and scratched his chin. He walked around Andy and looked him up and down. “What could you do for us?”

Andy spared no time to think. He blurted out a laundry list of menial tasks he could do.

“I have plenty of people to do that.” Mr Tall shook his head and stared at Andy. “I asked what you could do for us? What are your talents? Your secret talents?”

Andy gulped. Few knew his secret, but those who did knew it immediately. Could Mr Tall be one of them? Could he risk telling the truth? Not telling the truth? Andy took a deep breath and swallowed his fear. “I could …”

Fandango’s addition to the story:

…change my appearance.”

“What do you mean you change your appearance?” Mr Tall asked.

“I’m a shapeshifter,” Andy said.

“You mean that mythological crap about being able to transform your physical form or shape?” Mr Tall said. “Get out of here, kid. You’re wasting my time.”

“I can transform into anything I want,” Andy insisted. “Think of something you want me to change into. Don’t tell me what it is. Then close your eyes, and I’ll let you know when to open them.”

“This is stupid but fine.” Mr Tall thought for a moment. “Okay, boy. Now what?”

“Close your eyes until I tell you to open them.”

Mr Tall closed his eyes and waited a few seconds. He then heard a voice from overhead instructing him to open his eyes. Mr Tall looked up, but all he saw was a red-tailed hawk perched on the high wire near the top of the tent.

“So?” the hawk said, looking down the shocked circus owner. “You thought of a hawk, right?

“Am I hallucinating? Did you slip something in my drink?”

The hawk opened its wings and started circling above, slowly working its way back down to the ground. By the time it hit the sawdust-covered floor, Andy was, once again, a scrawny, human kid. “So, Mr Tall, can I work in your circus?”

Mr Tall just stood there for a minute or two before he found his voice. He looked at Andy and said …

Then Scott’spart

“Come with me!” and he hurried off into the night.

Andy rushed after him, eager to pursue the chance he had been longing for.

Mr Tall brought him to the centre of the campsite, he stopped in a ring of caravans, the doors looking inward. Andy felt suddenly like he was on trial. The brightly coloured caravans seemed like elderly matriarchs, stern but hiding an impulse to burst into laughter.

Except, one. There was one dark caravan, unpainted and in disrepair. It was completely out of place in this bright court.

Mr Tall caught the direction of his gaze and then looked abashed. He ducked his head as if to hide his shame or some other emotion not meant for Andy’s eyes.

‘I shouldn’t have brought him here,’ Andy heard his thoughts. ‘He will not resist that place, and we will be discovered.’

Then he spoke.

“Listen, lad. There’s no doubting your talent, we can use you. I am just not sure how. My people here, they. Well, they are an old fashioned bunch. Give them bearded ladies, conjoined twins and they’re fine. But you – you show them that and they will freak. And you and me won’t last five minutes. As for the audience. Well, we have to be subtle. Show them a trick that looks impossible in a way that they can believe it’s all smoke and mirrors.”

Andy stared at him. Was he going to give him a job or not? Was he going to bow out at the last minute? Lose his nerve?

Mr Tall glanced at the dark caravan again, then back at Andy. He took a deep breath as if drawing his strength.

“OK. Wait here! I have an idea, let me introduce you to my partner. He will know what to do.”

With that, he swept off into the darkness between the caravans.

Andy stood, suddenly unsure what to do. Should he just wait? What was going on here? It was all very strange.

But then it was a strange situation he had engineered. And much of the strangeness emanated from him.

He smiled wryly at himself. Wasn’t this exactly what he wanted?

Then he caught sight of the dark caravan again. It seemed to draw his attention. What was in there. What was Mr Tall afraid of? Ashamed of?

What would he discover behind that tatty door?

He found that he had already walked up the steps to that door. He looked around, something was warning him not to go any further, but he found he could not resist. He pushed the door open.

It was dark inside. He stepped forward into the darkness. He took three steady steps and then there was a click.

Too late he sensed a trap. There was a clash of metal. The darkness fled as the sides of the caravan fell away to reveal he as inside a cage. A cage with fine wire mesh sides.

He could transform – but not into anything that small.

“So! You could not resist?” Mr Tall. “You read my mind! At least as much as I wanted you too. And could not resist my bait.”

He smiled strangely.

“You are not the only one with talent.”

Before his eyes, Mr Tall seemed to shimmer, and he transformed. Not into an animal but into a young girl not much older than himself.

“We have been waiting for you to joins us for quite some time,” she said.

“Indeed we have,” said another voice. And out of the darkness came another man. Broad, long-haired and bearded, dressed in an immaculate suit.

“What shall we do with him?” asked the girl….

And now, Ritu’s addition.

It had been a few hours.

The two had observed me for a while, whispering to each other and smiling, but they were just a little too far away for me to sense what was being thought in their villainous minds. Then they left me, striding to the far caravan.

Slowly doors opened and the other circus ‘acts’ stepped out, one by one, to peer at the newest addition to their crew.

The acrobats flipped their way to the cage and stared at me. “What’s so special about him? He’s a mere boy.” Unimpressed, they stalked off.

Andy tried to smile at the juggler, his favourite act, as he sauntered over, lazily tossing two small balls up in the air. “Hey! Mr Juggler! Please, let me out. They tricked me!”

“Jacques. I am Jacques the Juggler extraordinaire. And trick? No. Franco and Seline. They never trick anyone. You only end up here, if this is where you are meant to be… A demain, garçon mystérieux.” He turned and made his way back to his caravan.

“No! Please! Wait!” Andy called out in vein. Slowly the others retired to their caravans, tired of waiting for something to happen.

This boy.

What was so special?

Andy slumped against the metal bars that caged him and slowly slid to the floor. A tear formed and trickled down his cheek.

Why did he never listen? Mother had told him no good would ever come of his revealing his secret to anyone. She had lived with her shapeshifter gift all her life, using it to help them survive. But never in a way that one of the ordinary folks of the world would ever discover her power.

“Psst!”

Andy’s head jerked up. In the darkness, he was unable to make out anybody there.

“Psst! Over here!” The voice was just behind him. He turned to see a young girl, head covered, beckoning to him.

“Here,” she pushed something through the railings. Bread. “You must be hungry.”

Andy scrambled over and took the food.

“Eat.”

She watched as he devoured the chunk of bread hungrily, before looking up at her again.

“Er, thank you.”

She smiled.

“I heard Maman talking about you with Papa. You are quite an enigma. No one seems to know why you are here. Caged. Oh, so rude of me, I am Nina. The juggler’s daughter.”

“Can you help me get out?” Andy knew nothing more than the fact that he needed to be released so he could run back to his own mother.

“What is your name?” She just looked at him, making no move to open the lock.

“Andy. My name is Andy, and if I don’t leave soon, my family will be up in arms! Please, Nina. Help me!”

She pondered his request for a moment. “I don’t know… you intrigue me. Maybe I don’t want to let you go. It’s been a long time since I had company here, more my age…”

Before Andy could make another plea, the door to the far caravan flung open. The voice of Franco bellowed out loud. “Quick! Pack up, everyone. We need to leave – IMMEDIATELY!”

Like magic, the ground filled with people, unpegging the tent, harnessing horses to the caravans, packing up the circus paraphernalia that was all around.

And just like that, Andy felt a shudder as the sides to his cage became solid. Someone had pushed the wooden covers back, leaving him nothing but a small slat to look through.

Then with a jerk, he was flung onto his bottom. The caravan started to move. He scrambled back up to peer through the slat. He could see nothing.

All he knew was that he was trapped, with no idea where he was being taken…

Willow’s bit…

It was dark and try as he may Andy could see nothing through the single slat. He was tired and not a little frightened. Slowly the rocking of the caravan, come cage set him off to a fitful sleep.

When he awoke, he was surprised to find that the wooden slats were down and he was in the open cage again.

Everyone was across the way in a large clearing putting up the Big Top. There was a lot of noise, and everyone was very busy.

Andy felt he was being watched, so he spun round and smiled as he came face to face with Nina who was standing outside his cage again. “Hello,” she said, “I have brought you some more bread and some water. Sorry” she said pushing a hose pipe through the wire mesh, “you will have to drink through this.”

Andy was hungry and thirsty, so he did not complain and drank copiously from the hose.

“What do you think they will do with me,” he asked Nina. She smiled and told him that she had heard her father and the Boss talking. “They are going to use you in a magic act.” She told him.

“There is no need to be afraid,” said Nina, ” Everyone who joins this circus starts off in this cage.” Nina shifted on her feet and continued, “my Mum and Dad did, everyone does ” She smiled at Andy then continued, ” really no one joins this circus unless it is meant to be.”

“What do you mean” asked Andy. Before Nina could answer her father called her away. As she ran off towards the big top, she turned and waved to Andy giving him a wonderful smile.

Curiosity was burning in Andy’s head as he thought over what Nina had said. Suddenly and for the first time in his life, Andy felt the tingling in bones start, the warning that he was about to change. He was shocked because he had not discided to change. This change was happening un announced.

To his amazement Andy shape shifted to a worm, he had never changed into anything so small before.

Quickly he passed through the wire mesh, once outside he shifted once more into a sparrow. After he had got his breath back, he set off to see what he could find out…..

Michael’s bit…

Andy was never all that keen about flying. It all seemed such an effort, and he tired quickly. He thought being a juggler was much more exciting and less tiring.

His transformation did worry him as he didn’t think he could change into something so small. But he was glad to out of the cage and free once again.

After flying for a bit, he decided to stop on a branch of a tree and gather his breath. He looked around and found he was in a tree just away from the circus caravans. He was sure he had flown a considerable distance and was alarmed to find himself still within the grasp of the circus.

He flew off again, and this time a strong wind made the going all the more difficult, but he was determined to make good his escape.

Once again when he stopped he found he was sitting on top of one of the caravans and the words of Nina: ‘really no one joins this circus unless it is meant to be.” echoed inside his head.

This was getting so frustrating. Flying was hard work. Being back where he started was doubly frustrating.

Just then the face of the young girl who had once been the Tall Man appeared from under the caravan and along side her the man he had met before.

“Good to see you back,” said the girl. “It’s futile you trying to get away, this is how we determine if you are ready to join the circus, give you an opportunity to get away and see if the circus brings you back. You are one of us now,” she concluded and holding out a hand to him watched as he alighted onto it.

“Be a small boy,” commanded the man beside her and Andy found himself standing in the middle of the caravans.

“Here,” said the girl handing Andy a set of juggling balls, “see what you can do with them.”

Andy threw the balls into the air and couldn’t believe what happened next….

I shall pass the story to Violet at Thru Violet’s Lentz.

Teresa’s rules for Finish the Story are:

Copy the story as you receive it.

Add to the story in some fashion.

Tag another person to contribute to or finish the story.

Please use FTS as a tag so Teresa can find it or link back to part 1.

Have Fun!

 

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , | 11 Comments

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #12 – The Anderson Sisters

boleyns-bull-6-cp-1

It was one of those holidays where all they seemed to do was visit churches and an endless steam of castles.

George was getting tired of it and was heard on more than one occasion to voice his opinion about the monotony of the tour.

By the end of the first week with the prospect of another week of the same he felt he had to do something, anything to break the boredom.

To make it worse on the tour were the Anderson sisters, Gladys and Myrtle who loved the churches and who stood for ages photographing every aspect of every castle.

George was often the first back to the bus and would doze off waiting for his fellow travellers to return. For reasons lost on him the Anderson sisters always sat in front of him. Their excited conversation about one thing and another drove him to distraction as they drove from one site to another.

After a visit to a castle in Boylen, the sisters were particularly fascinated by the bull situated at the front of the castle.

George was taken aback by the nature of their conversation.

“Did you see the balls on that bull?” asked one to the other.

“It was a lot of bull I could see that plain as the nose on your face.” replied the other.

“Imagine that climbing on top of you,” said one.

“Ohhhhhhh yuck,” they both chorused and laughed together.

“I feel a bit..” whispered one to the other.

“So do I,” stated the other.

“We’ll have to sort it out tonight.”

“Of course, though I think we’d best buy a new battery.”

After that they were quiet, and George wondered about the innocence of the sisters as they appeared to be having too much of a good time.

 

Written for: https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/01/30/crimsons-creative-challenge-12/

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

In Other Words, secret treasure…

in-other-words1

The kids went treasure hunting today.

The paddock next door was once a dumping ground.

They returned with a bucket full of bits of China, a plastic peg and what they called secret treasure.

It was a damaged plaster of Paris dog ornament.

They treasured it for many years because they imaged it was once loved by kids like them.

 

Written for: https://patriciasplace.me/2019/01/30/in-other-words-secret-treasure/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 16 Comments

What do you See? Jan/29/2019 – Tuesdays

ff

He found a new friend.

Good friends, he loved to visit on Tuesdays.

Tuesday was the best day to visit,

He always felt good about visiting of a Tuesday.

But he also knew he needed a quick escape.

What if everything went pear-shaped?

What if she didn’t like him of a Tuesday?

Where would that leave him?

So he took his escape with him

Tethered it to her front door

Kept it fuelled and ready to go,

Just in case.

His last friend he also visited of a Tuesday

Until she decided he’d called often enough

For her to grow tired of him.

She stopped entertaining him

Said he was dull and suggested if he came again

She’d set the dog about him.

He disliked dogs; he and dogs had that in common.

So dressed in his best Tuesday suit

He knocked on her door and waited,

Looked once again to check his escape was at the ready.

Seeing her at the door, smiling widely

He entered, never sure what might happen

But always in anticipation,

After all, it was Tuesday, and he felt good on Tuesdays.

 

Written for: https://helenevaillant.com/2019/01/29/what-do-you-see-jan-29-2019/

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

Twittering Tales #121 – 29 January 2019

baker-bakery-baking-890520

Image: Photo by Oleg Magni at Pexels.com

He loved the fair lady and his cooking skills illustrated the ultimate expression of his love. The shapes were standard, the magic ingredient would make all the difference. He sprinkled each with love and baked with care and affection. She swooned. He knew he was on a winner.

Written for: https://katmyrman.com/2019/01/28/twittering-tales-121-29-january-2019/

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

Photo Challenge #249 – Things Growing in My Eyes.

50641917_2099473626958457_1985565335150919680_n

There are things growing in my eyes,

They weren’t always there

But I feel them now

Moments when my vision blurs

When a good rubbing clears them away

Until they find cause to grow again.

It wasn’t always this way

I had good eyes once,

Blue, clear, 20/20 vision.

But age caught up with me

First my long sight

Then reading, I was ensnared

When my eyes found reason to get lazy

And I had to wear glasses

For that gave rise to more laziness

Thicker lenses and heavier frames.

They tell me its part of getting older

But I think denial can take care of that

At least I tell myself that

As I clean my spectacles once again

Rub the bridge of my nose

As it complains of a weight

It wasn’t supposed to bear.

Looking down at my computer screen

I pop on my computer glasses

So much easier to see with I find

And look out into the world

Abuzz with news and possibilities,

I dare not stop looking

For fear of missing, the important

And mostly the trivial.

But the things in my eyes are still growing

Clouding the future, holding me ransom

To the shackles of age

Until ravaged I succumb

Remembered as someone who once was.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2019/01/29/photo-challenge-249/

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 9 Comments