Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – The Museum of Upper Slobyabib.

Posted on August 21, 2018 by Michael

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Image: ©Yarnspinner

On my recent world trip with my aging but enthusiastic neighbour Edna Ross, whose enthusiasm waned somewhat when she discovered we would be sharing accommodation.

On our second day, we visited the museum of Upper Slobyabib. To our dismay there appeared only one entrance, which demanded NO ENTRY in large letters. Our map indicated another entry point, but it was hidden behind a souvenir shop.

Once inside, the museum was magnificent. The Republic of Upper Slobyabib was an ancient republic with a history going back a long way.

Edna was fascinated by the traditional costumes having been a seamstress in her younger days.

We found it difficult to find the exit, and after much investigation found it hidden behind the 16th Century exhibition of battle implements.

Back at our hotel, I was subjected to Edna’s photo record of our visit. This was something I was to bear for the rest of our trip.

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/08/20/fffaw-challenge-179th/

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FOWC with Fandango — Neighbor

Posted on August 20, 2018 by Michael

fowc

My neighbor Mr Fango surprised me the other day by sticking his head over the fence to ask if I had any spare tomato stakes.

It was unusual as Mr Fango usually sticks to himself and rarely bothers us with any request.

I said we did as dad had not planted any this year and I knew we always had extra. So, I handed over two, and he was grateful.

I’ve spied Mr Fango’s garden through our fence, and he has quite a green thumb.

In among his numerous plants, he has what dad calls his relaxing weed, and I never knew what dad meant until one day I watched him harvest some of the plants with heads on them and then observed him crushing them and placing them in a rack behind his tool shed. Once he’d finished, he called to Mrs Fango, and they sat on the veranda sharing a home-made smoke which I thought was odd as why did Mrs Fango have to share his?

It wasn’t long before my neighbours were heads back, giggling like a couple of kids.

I asked dad if we could grow some relaxing weed like our neighbours, but dad just said: “One day son when you’re older.”

 

Written for: https://fivedotoh.com/2018/08/20/fowc-with-fandango-neighbor/

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Wordle #207 Frau Marmor

Posted on August 20, 2018 by Michael

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This week’s words: Hemmablind ((adj.) To become so accustomed to the flaws in one’s own home as to no longer notice them even if those flaws require certain adaptations to be made. (Does this word exist in English?)
Pinfeather Decorous ((adj.) characterized by dignified propriety in conduct, manners, appearance, character, etc.) Final Able Underwater Marigold Pester Token Falsify Draw Crutch

 

Miss Marble received word that her cousin Frau Marmor was coming to visit. Frau Marmor lived in Munich and was what Miss Marble referred to as a hemmeblind woman. Frau Marmor insisted in speaking German whenever she visited, which was not very often, and Miss Marble worried about her place as over the years it had taken on a character that not many houses possessed and Frau Marmor was always quick to point out the error of Miss Marble’s ways.

Miss Marble decided to be as decorous as possible in order to show Frau Marmor she was not a woman to be criticized. And as we knew Miss Marble was not a woman to be trifled with. Frau Marmor was not the witch Miss Marble was and was able to pull out the required spell when required to put Frau Marmor into a deep sleep thereby affording Miss Marble some relief from her tiresome cousin.

Frau Marmor arrived to her own fanfare and immediately took to the garden as Miss Marble had quite a considerable garden. The marigolds were out in flower, and Frau Marmor took it upon herself to pester Miss Marble as to the final time she might be able to pick them.

Miss Marble distracted her cousin by suggesting they go in search of pinfeathers as there were new born birds in the nests in her garden and pinfeathers were more than useful in sleeping potions.

Frau Marmor as with many people as they age was starting to mellow and as a token of her esteem for her cousin she drew her a plan of the garden pointing out where improvements might be made and so as to not falsify anything made her drawing to perfect scale.

That night it rained, and the garden floor was soon underwater drowning many of Miss Marble’s precious plants.

Frau Marmor not to be taken aback used one of Miss Marble’s crutches, she kept for emergencies, to find her way to the marigolds and rescue as many as she could. There were yellow blooms all through Miss Marble’s house, wet soggy ones. Miss Marble drew in a long breath and wondered when her cousin might be going home.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/08/20/wordle-207/

 

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FOWC with Fandango — Kowtow

Posted on August 19, 2018 by Michael

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To kowtow or not to kowtow

That is the question,

When surrounded by outrageous lies

Deceit and innuendo.

When truth becomes a marginal commodity

And twisting reality suits

Financial and political gain

One must question the veracity

Of those purporting to be our leaders.

To kowtow is easy, say yes and leave it to them

Only to discover you have been conned

Led astray and ripped off

Your rights diminished

Your right to your say taken from you.

You discover you kowtowed

When at your most vulnerable

Trust eroded, hope gone

The rich getting richer

The poorer sinking further into poverty

All the while being told things have never been better.

 

Written for: https://fivedotoh.com/2018/08/19/fowc-with-fandango-kowtow/

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‘Close Up’ – Photo Prompt

Posted on August 19, 2018 by Michael

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The trouble with close up was there was no way of hiding the truth.

His flaws shone through like the proverbial dog’s balls. His philosophy of everything was from a distance only went so far, and it was a way of keeping everyone at arm’s length.

The issue was more than his physical limitations which were sizeable, to say the least. His face with its pock marks, his bad teeth and breath were reason enough to stay at a safe distance.

But his personality was nothing to write home about. His social skills were all but non-existent, and his ability to hold down a conversation in some intelligible way was restricted the longer you stood by him and realised you had arrived at the limit of his social ability some twenty minutes earlier.

But despite all that some people who saw past his limitations saw a man who was capable of great good and whose compassion for others and understanding of issues made him a crutch to lean on and many did on numerous occasions.

He could recognise the frailties in others. Not only that but he was non-judgemental of them. He could listen and simply understand them and then work out ways in which the person in question might be able to function and succeed.

His success in this way did nothing to help him overcome his personal afflictions. Those he helped went away feeling better in themselves but who felt nothing towards the man who had helped them achieve what they had.

He went home alone, he spent days and weeks if not months wondering why all the women he dealt with saw nothing in him apart from his professional help.

He did make an overture towards a woman who worked in another department, but she shrank in horror at the thought of doing anything with him apart from passing the time of day. Her retreat reinforced his belief he was meant to be alone, that relationship beyond the professional was to be denied to him.

Up close, if they bothered to look, was a man broken, lonely and like everyone else in need of love.

 

 

Written for: https://arousedblog.wordpress.com/2018/08/19/close-up-photo-prompt/

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FOWC with Fandango — Sensual

Posted on August 18, 2018 by Michael

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It was Saturday morning and as I looked out over the fence into Mr Fango’s place it was unusually quiet. A van pulled up outside their house and a man took in a huge bunch of flowers. It was Mr and Mrs Fango’s wedding anniversary.

It was obvious to us all that despite their privacy Mr and Mrs Fango loved one another. When you looked at Mr Fango you wouldn’t think he had a romantic bone in his body, but apparently, he did as mid-morning Sexy Rexy’s pink Sex Shop delivery van pulled up outside and Rexy himself carried in a large parcel wrapped in discrete brown paper.

I watched fascinated and it wasn’t until I mentioned Sexy Rexy that my parents looked horrified through the window and made me go and make my bed.

It must have been a very happy and sensual anniversary for Mr and Mrs Fango as they both had that same glow mum has when she and dad sleep in.

 

Written for: https://fivedotoh.com/2018/08/18/fowc-with-fandango-sensual/

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Weekend Writing Prompt #68 – Derelict

Posted on August 18, 2018 by Michael

wk-68-derelict

He hobbled into the room, coughed and panted before struggling to sit down. Most of his working bits no longer did as they once did. In his pocket, he carried his various medications which rattled as he walked along. He was derelict in every possible way.

Written for:  https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/08/18/weekend-writing-prompt-68-derelict/
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Saturday Mix – Opposing Forces, 18 August 2018

Posted on August 18, 2018 by Michael

Our words this week are:

– whisper and shout

– humid and dry

In the middle of the fourth set I looked at her and could see her mouthing words I knew she was shouting but in the context of the moment were less than a faint whisper.

The external noise was deafening, the bass guitar pounding notes in our heads and the mass of people jumping, swirling, jiving in time with the mesmerizing music.

It wasn’t long until the activity left me dry and in the humid conditions, my dryness was in need of liquid sustenance. I shouted to her to come for a drink, but all I heard whispered to me was WHAT???

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/08/18/saturday-mix-opposing-forces-18-august-2018/

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First Line Friday: August 17th, 2018

Posted on August 18, 2018 by Michael

red-african-sunset

The sun simmered red as it slunk towards the jagged horizon. 

Another stinking hot day was drawing to an end, and the glow of the setting sun heralded the same again tomorrow.

We had had two weeks of record high temperatures, and our resolve was weakening. With the air conditioners running all day and often all night we wondered when and if the heat would let up. In so many ways we’d stopping living.

Any activity was best done in the early morning before the heat set in. That activity was minimal in nature as it was so exhausting performing the most basic of tasks. Even the hanging out of the washing was tiring, and the joke was the first hung item was usually dry by the time the last item was pegged on.

During the day we huddled in our houses, wearing the least we had to, fans and air con blasting and hoping there would not be a power failure as then we’d have nothing to keep us cool.

Our freezers were stocked with everything we could find to make as much ice as we could. Drinks were laden with ice cubes, and in dire circumstances, we folded the ice inside face washers and held them to our heads.

But sleeping was hard. Thankfully we had ceiling fans, and they worked non-stop circulating the air and doing all they could to make life a tad more pleasant.

Behind it, all was the eternal fear of the next electricity bill. Everyone dreaded them arriving, wondering how we’d ever pay it as the days went on with the heat not letting up and our dependence on cooling.

So tonight, as the sun went down and the prospect of another stinking hot day we resolved to make the best of the bad situation we found ourselves in, after all, we argued, despite all we hated about the hot weather we were as guilty as the next person for adding to the effects of global warming.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/08/17/first-line-friday-august-17th-2018/

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SoCS Aug. 18/18 – “-ic or -ical.”

Posted on August 17, 2018 by Michael

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“-ic or –ical.”

cataclysmic

hysterical 

At 2am my son awoke to find his room shaking.

So violent was it, he was thrown from his bed. In the following minutes, he thought his life was going to end as he found himself being thrown around his room as if he was nothing more than a rag doll.

He was in what was a cataclysmic earth quake. Eventually, the quake subsided enough for him to gather himself and investigate the damage done.

Outside the mood was hysterical. People were beside themselves wondering how they survived and how they’d cope with another one. In the previous week, there had been numerous rumblings, but this quake which they later discovered was about 7.6.

In the immediate days, they evacuated all personnel deemed not needed, but he remained as he was the medical staff and many of the locals needed medical help.

What followed was a series of aftershocks, slightly less in intensity that the cataclysmic one that is mentioned above. It was a totally unnerving experience, whole sides of hillsides slid down into valleys, people were displaced, and a massive humanitarian aid program was begun.

In time he came home with many stories and photos of huge rocks thrown down from the hills and landing feet from where he was living.

For us, as parents, the hysterical nature of an experience such as this where your child could have been killed if not seriously injured cannot be treated lightly. I am glad he is now well away from all that.

 

Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2018/08/17/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-aug-18-18/

 

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