Tale Weaver # 199 – Open or Shut? November 29th – Opening a Shut Door.

Posted on November 30, 2018 by Michael

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When Marie died the devastation of his loss was overwhelming.

He’d been prepared, at least he thought he had been, but the moment of her passing left him bereft.

He felt a massive emptiness descend on him and he welcomed the thought of closing down into a safe and secure part of himself.

He withdrew from his community; he stayed home surrounded by her memories content to live in that way. He paid lip service to all the concerns that came his way, his children worried about him and offering suggestions, but nothing could budge him from that feeling that there was nothing left in life for him. Marie had been with him for so long, he knew their relationship was a lucky one; they’d lasted where so many of their friends had not.

Each night he found himself in conversation with her just as they had been in life. They discussed everything from the kids to the political situation. Marie was insistent he get out and find some joy in living. After all, she argued, he was the one living, and she didn’t want him fading into nothing when she knew he was a man of considerable substance.

He dismissed the whole notion of finding another woman, it would be impossible he thought, the poor woman would forever be compared to Marie, and he knew that would be unfair.

His youngest daughter invited him to dinner, and it was there he met Flo. She was the mother of his daughter’s best friend, and she too had been single a long time.

He found an interest in her eyes; there was something about them that drove him to discover more.

He went home that night feeling intrigued by the conversation and discovery of a woman he found himself attracted to.

What was this he asked and that night in his pre-bed conversation with Marie raised the problem as he saw it? If he pursued this new woman would it eventually lead him to abandon Marie?

Marie told him not to be silly, she would never go away, she was a part of his heart, she held a special place, and she would always be there.

Marie was excited for her husband, she encouraged him to see Flo another time and reassured him it was ok, he had a right to live, to experience a relationship once again, she was fine with him finding a reason to live.

He called Flo the next day, and they set a date for a picnic the following Sunday. Inside he felt that surge of excitement he thought had long deserted him. Parts of him he had closed down with Marie’s death were now knocking wanting to be awakened and given a new chance at life.

It was with a sense of teenage excitement that he packed the old picnic basket and headed out the door that Sunday unsure of where it might lead, but determined to enjoy the opportunity he had been given.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/11/29/tale-weaver-199-open-or-shut-november-29th/

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Daily Writing Challenge, Nov 24 – After the Battle.

Posted on November 24, 2018 by Michael

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Image: https://pixabay.com/en/users/skeeze-272447/

Today’s words: Faith, fight, freedom

It wasn’t until the dust settled after the bombs stopped falling and the constant bedlam of the fight around him subsided that he felt his arms to make sure he was still alive.

He was curled up inside the tiny hole he had dug to protect himself against the hell that rained down on him.

There was a constant ringing in his ears, and he knew there had to have been damage done as the ringing didn’t top and the ache grew stronger.

In his pocket, he found the medal his mother had given him before he left, a medal symbolising her faith and one she wanted to give to him as the only way she could think of as protection.

There was a man kneeling beside him, the red-cross on his jacket telling him who he was and he was talking to him, but the ringing in his ears shut out his words.

When he awoke that morning some weeks later, he was ordered to dress ready for evacuation. They were sending him home and once dressed in his fatigues he went outside and stood for a moment in the bright sunshine, taking it in, feeling thankful he could.

The camp dog came round as it did, sniffing out everyone it came across and he bent down to rub its head and feel the warmth of its affection. God only knew he needed some of that in this terrible place.

He lined up with the other broken men and women and stood to attention as the General told them he was proud of their efforts in the fight for freedom.

In the solder’s mind, the word freedom was a lie. He knew for a fact the ones in charge were planning the next offensive and freedom was not part of the equation.

 

Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/11/24/daily-writing-challenge-nov-24/

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Reena’s Exploration Challenge #64 – Home

Posted on November 23, 2018 by Michael

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It is the time for us to go home, or welcome people home. Or just find that place within ourselves we can call home.  There are some people who induce that feeling in us of being home. There are times ideas come home to us – as if they never really went away, but were just waiting to be found.

Everybody needs love – be it self-love, or coming from others.

I don’t know which one is the main theme here, and which is the sub-theme – Home or Love. Go ahead and explore…..

It took a huge effort for him to go home. The whole thought of it as home left him feeling ill, so many triggers at the mention of the word.

But Christmas was Christmas, and at the urging of his siblings, he decided to make the effort.

He knew she would be there and the thought of engaging, talking, contacting and being there in the same room filled him with dread.

But home meant something to him. Before the trouble started there had been good memories, past Christmas’ where family had been fun, gifts exchanged and lunch enjoyed by all. He had always enjoyed the company of his brothers and sisters, he was thankful they had stayed by him all these years.

He knew he wasn’t the easiest person to get along with; he had his share of bad habits but then who didn’t. He knew home meant a lot to them, the youngest of his siblings had not so long ago left home, and he knew that had been a difficult undertaking as she had made his life hell as she had done to him.

But home was a place of belonging and love. The love had remained but the belonging he fought with in the days before going home. He stayed with his dad the night before, his sister one up from him had come around and talked to him about the next day, the lunch, how she was and what changes there had been.

She had remarried, a new guy, nothing like dad, more like her dad, a man he loved and with whom he’d spent a lot of time when growing up.

When the time came his sister came to collect him, and he took a deep breath and sat in the seat next to her in the car. The house was still the same, that sickly pink colour his siblings had referred to as the fairy floss house.

Inside she was there to greet him, their words awkward, hesitant and uncomfortable but she did try to make him feel welcome.

As always she put on a show, all pretend, always well behaved but underneath he felt the rage of words needing to be said coming from her. He felt this because he knew she would never admit responsibility for the past but rather if given the opportunity place the blame squarely on his shoulders or at least on those of his father.

Looking around he realised he was in a place that had once been his home but was now a shell of what it once was. Love and respect had gone, there were memories he was sure, but they were somewhere else, hiding in one of the many rooms she had closed up because she’d filled them with junk to maybe hide the pain each room contained.

Afterwards, he reflected on what and where home was to him now. It certainly wasn’t in the past, but maybe in the shabby room he rented downtown that contained everything that was him.

 

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2018/11/22/reenas-exploration-challenge-64/

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Thursday photo prompt: Hidden #writephoto – In Search of Flatmacs.

Posted on November 23, 2018 by Michael

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The water sprite moved stealthily along the creek bed. It was irritated and unhappy as it had been demoted by the fairy king for being so-called slack on the job. Its wasn’t its fault it told itself that the Queen had been inconvenienced by him washing in the same spot as the Queen had come to bathe in. Had it known it would never have been there.

Now it had been removed from an exulted position within the fairy kingdom to a menial task of finding flatmacs in the creek bed.

This job required it to scour the creek bed for flatmacs, flat stones used to heat the King’s bed. They would be heated in the castle fire and when hot enough placed into the King’s bed.

Flatmacs only lasted a few sleeps as the skin of a fairy had a corrosive effect on the rocks, and so there was a constant search for new flatmacs especially in the colder months. The King was known roar with frustration if his flatmac had corroded to the point of discomfort.

So the water sprite spent its day’s head down bottom up looking for the hidden stones. Luckily the creek bed was covered in stones, and with a degree of diligence, it found enough to fill the days quota.

With its bag full it returned to the Castle where as night approached he would place one stone in the fire in preparation for warming the King and Queen’s ample posteriors.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2018/11/22/thursday-photo-prompt-hidden-writephoto/

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Daily Writing Challenge, Nov 22 – Just For the Record.

Posted on November 22, 2018 by Michael

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Today’s words: oven, explosion, “for the record”

For the record, I wanted it known I had never before cooked a turkey. It was a risk I knew and what made it even for dicey was my dislike for turkey.

We had an American friend staying over who had mentioned how much he missed Thanksgiving and so we thought to ease his burden and homesickness we’d at least make an effort.

It’s not a celebration in my country though we have plenty to be thankful for. Sun, surf and sand being three that spring to mind.

It was easy to buy a frozen turkey at the local supermarket, and I read up on how best to cook it. Once I had it ready, I realised how big a bird it was and then found it just fitted into the oven.

Our friend from across the pond suggested a few things that were part of his tradition, and we made an effort to secure them for him. After all, why do things half arsed I said to my house companion.

As always when there was food being prepared at our place, there was a bottle of wine opened, and we enjoyed sharing it and commenting on how good it was, even when it was only okay, as we could never afford the really good stuff.

After a few glasses, we lost track of the time. There was an almighty explosion from within the oven and something I had never before witnessed occurred.

The turkey by now pretty well done had blown apart, and bits were stuck on the door and every other difficult place to clean.

I didn’t think it was possible for that to happen and I reminded everyone, just for the record, that this was now my one and only time baking a turkey for any occasion.

We stood around looking at the state of the oven and more so the state of the turkey which was by now looking less desirous as a meal. In it’s exploded state the only solution seemed to open another bottle of the best we could afford.

 

Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/11/22/daily-writing-challenge-nov-22/

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Tale Weaver/Fairy Tale – # 198 – Knights – November 22nd

Posted on November 22, 2018 by Michael

Warrior Knight Cross Silver Medieval

Image: Google Images Labelled for re-use.

It was no fun being a knight. Marvin had long found the role to be tedious, and the constant maintenance to his armour not to say the endless polishing to keep it shining was a task he didn’t enjoy.

He didn’t ask to be a knight. It happened one morning when he was down at the creek washing when his dad approached with the exciting announcement he was to start at knight’s school the next day.

His father’s enthusiasm was such that Marvin became infused with his father’s response and pride in having a family member embrace the sacred position of a knight to the king and so he too initially assumed the same enthusiasm.

But the life was of a knight was not all beer and skittles. The hours of training, the horsemanship, the spit and polish required to satisfy those in charge drove him crazy at times.

On top of that, there was the very likelihood of being killed an option Marvin was not in any favour of.

As it was the armour he had to wear was heavy, it rubbed against bits of him he found irritating and embarrassing to mention, and his helmet was ill-fitting despite his many overtures to Casper the Helmet Maker to have it adjusted to fit his head more comfortably.

What was the last straw in Marvin’s opinion was his first task of rescuing a maiden in distress.

The maiden in question was one Lady Marie Von Stargest who had been kidnapped by the evil Sir Woderwick Wickum and held for a King’s ransom.

Marvin’s troubles began when his horse, a steed named Rufus refused to cross the river when nearing the castle of the evil Wickum.

After much negotiating, Rufus gave in and Marvin was soon at the gates of the evil Wickum’s castle. Sir Woderwick was not happy to see Marvin especially since Marvin didn’t have the ransom in hand.

There was an exchange of insults, threats and name-calling before Marvin overpowered Sir Woderwick and grabbed the Lady Marie from her place of bondage.

Then his woes really took shape. It seems Lady Marie and Sir Woderwick had struck up a relationship and Lady Marie was reluctant to leave.

She struck Marvin a blow that set him back, his ego damaged, his resolve not what he thought it was. So, tying the Lady to his saddle, he rode back to the King’s castle with the protesting Lady across his saddle with Rufus snorting uncomfortably with the added load of a rather plump Lady Marie.

His ears having been assaulted like never before ached by the time he deposited the Lady Marie at the feet of the King. She then gave her father a right mouthful and promised never to speak to him until he agreed she marry the evil Sir Woderwick Wickum.

The King looked at Marvin and asked out of curiosity more than anything if Marvin would take her.

Marvin found an excuse in caring for his horse and oiling his armour an urgent issue and made his way quickly from the King’s chamber.

Not looking back, he hoped to never see the Lady Marie ever again.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/11/22/tale-weaver-fairy-tale-198-knights-november-22nd/

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Eleven Questions – All About Life

Posted on November 21, 2018 by Michael

It seems that everyone (Fandango, The Bag Lady, All About Life, Haunted Wordsmith) is doing these questions, so I decided to join in mainly because I like answering questions.

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1 Socks – I love them more than hate them as they are a part of the clothes I wear day to day. In recent times I’ve taken to wearing compression socks which I discovered come in a variety of colours and patterns.

2 God – I think there is something there, the Universe cannot be a large space filled with space, the occasional planet and a few suns and have no purpose than to exist. What a disappointment if that was all there was. I think the concept of God has been distorted somewhat into what we humans most probably can grasp as a concept based on the perceptions we have been taught.

3 I guess it could be, but for me, it’s the cheese that makes it a pizza.

4 Neil Gaiman’s ‘Good Omens’ as I have read it several times and pinched some of his ideas and used them in my own tales of heaven and hell.

5 Yes, I think they do, and as a sign, they are more intelligent than us, they have deliberately avoided us, for good reason I would say. But one day I hope they land in my back yard, and we can have a cup of tea and discuss the universe and all that.

6 No Teddy, I think mine was passed to my younger brother who probably mutilated it, I can recall he was missing an eye at one stage.

7 Brussel Sprouts? NO!!!

8 Christmas – love it, it brings us all together, my gkids love it, we have an elf called Bunder who visits each of their houses and brings them something special.

9 Sexier? Always a beaming smile because it tells you so much about the beamer…happiness and pleasure cannot really be bought, it comes from within and a smile portrays that.

10 One view? The ocean rolling onto a beach.

11 Spring or Autumn – Probably autumn because in my part of the world it symbolises the end of the long hot summer.

 

Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/11/20/eleven-questions-all-about-life/ 

 

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #2 – On Holiday with Lester.

Posted on November 21, 2018 by Michael

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When my aged companion, Lester, suggested I accompany him on a holiday to the town of Fye I at first thought he was joking.

I never considered Lester as the holiday type, he was more your stay at home and watch the telly sort of man. So I thought.

But Lester had had a win in the lottery and wanted to see the world, as he put it, and Fye was to be his first destination. By the time we were ready to leave, Lester had been on his computer and found out all there was to know about Fye. Apparently, the word was a shortened form of the word fire, and in Lester’s head, he was itching to find out why the word fire had been corrupted into Fye.

We arrived on a Tuesday; Lester had a thing for doing things on a Tuesdays. And found our accommodation at the Fye Guest House and Laundromat. I discovered it was a town of odd combinations. The local pub was also the pharmacy, and the supermarket doubled as the church for Sunday services.

Lester meanwhile busied himself flitting here there and every where, taking photos and ultimately organising for us to go on a river cruise with Alf Majors’ River Tours which had to be organised between milking times of his large goat herd.

It turned out a wonderful holiday and Lester despite his age never showed a moment of tiredness being more than happy to go through the day taking in everything the town offered and planning further holidays on his trusty computer.

 

Written for: https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2018/11/21/crimsons-creative-challenge-2/

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Daily Writing Challenge, Nov 21 – The Cheery Self Cafe

Posted on November 21, 2018 by Michael

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Today’s words: cheer, champagne, tuxedo

You wouldn’t say Miss Gladys Allslop was the cheeriest person around, but she was a woman who liked to do things right.

She ran the oddly named “Cheery Self Café” and believed there was a manner in which a café should be run. This was especially so when she considered that her clients were from the top end of town and therefore demanded, at least in her eyes, a certain level of service and decorum.

It was a costly business going into her café for a cup of tea and a jam scone. Many scorned her café as pretentious and over priced. It was felt it wouldn’t last, as people would not frequent her establishment when down the road you could get the same cup of tea and a scone for a fraction of the price.

You could buy lunch, always served with genuine French Champagne, none of your pretend Sparkling Wines, and with a menu, she had developed with her chef husband, Jean.

It was the only café around with a dress code, and she insisted men wore a tuxedo even if it was for a humble cup of tea.

It was an unusual sight to wander by in the middle of the day and see so many seated in her café all dressed to the nines sipping their champagne and eating spatchcock in lemon-lime sauce.

In time it became a novelty to go to dinner there, the suit hire firm in the High Street doing a roaring trade in suit hire and people started to have formal nights at the café just for the fun of dressing up.

 

Written for: https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/11/21/daily-writing-challenge-nov-21/

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Twittering Tales # 111 – 19 November 2018

Posted on November 20, 2018 by Michael

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Image: By mh–grafik at pixabay.com

The old witch looked down the well and mused that it was a while since she’d been down it.
It was she knew a pitiless bottom and one which only brought disappointment.
It was time though she thought to be brave and venture down.
After all, it was her responsibility to keep it clean.

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