Saturday, July 04, 2015

She alone

At this week's  Sunday Scribblings 2 our prompt is garden, whilst over at Sunday's Whirligig, our words are provided by Old Egg and they are misty world talk head again place silence beyond people nowhere beginning and everything.


She lives in a world of her own, isolated from the frenzied existence of the townsfolk beyond. Her home, a little wooden shack nestled in a wild wooded garden in the middle of nowhere. She is at one with the trees and creatures of the undergrowth.

In this place, everything she needs and all she desires surrounds her. The sound of silence is the only sound she covets; the only sound she hears. No need to talk. No one to hear.

In the silvery light of a misty moisty dawn, she stands motionless in her doorway entranced by sparkling droplets of dew which dance upon slender blades of grass quivering in the gentle breeze. 

Her eyes are drawn to a hazy apparition rippling amidst the aged oaks. Amorphous, nebulous. A  person? A beast maybe. Perhaps a spirit, for spirits dwell in these woods.

Mesmerised, she drifts outside. Barefoot, head held high and arms stretched before her, she glides into the hoary miasma.... never to return.

The end? The beginning.  Who knows? 

Only she and she alone


.

The Versatile Blogger Award




Thank you so much DEE DEE for handing me this award. It is really appreciated.
In accepting the award, I have been asked to...

1. Display the badge
2. Thank the person who awarded it to me
3. List seven interesting things about myself
4. Nominate up to 15 bloggers for the award.

I’ve been racking my brain for seven things to tell you about myself that aren’t dull or boring! Not an easy task, but I’ll have a go.

1. I’m restless by nature and find it difficult to relax and do nothing.
2. I’m happiest thousands of miles away exploring other countries and cultures.
3. Three is my favourite number. I’ve had three marriages, three divorces, three children and three grandchildren!
4. My little pocket camera is my constant companion everywhere I go from the local shops to the other side of the globe.
5. I’ve never had a single day off work for illness in 49 years of working (I believe that’s called tempting fate!)
6. I love preparing ethnic banquets for friends when I return from foreign places.
7. I never read a book or wrote anything other than the odd postcard until I was in my late 40’s.

The next bit I find awkward. I’ve been asked to nominate up to 14 bloggers for this award. Now I know that many of the bloggers I’m in touch with would prefer not to involve themselves with this type of posting. I also feel it would be difficult having to single out fourteen, so I've picked just five, for no other reason than they are the most prolific contributors to the prompt sites that I follow and the most regular visitors to my site. Now please do not feel obliged to participate, I promise you I won’t be offended.


I visit and comment on scores of blogs each day and I can honestly say I don’t have any particular favourites, they are all so different, hence my hesitancy in going any further with this part of the meme!

Thanks again DEE DEE!


Thursday, July 02, 2015

His final laugh




At this week's Three Word Wednesday, the given words are Obedient, Raspy, and Sombre.




“.....Your obedient servant, Claude Underwood”

He placed the letter on the table. Without raising his head, he peered upwards over the rim of his gold-framed spectacles.

There was stunned silence from the assembled family. The atmosphere was sombre. The words from solicitor Solomon Greenwood’s raspy voice hung in the air.

He held a crisp white handkerchief to his mouth as he cleared his throat.

“Does anyone have anything to say?”

Slowly removing his glasses, he looked around the room from one person to the next and then the next, patiently awaiting a reaction.

The sound of Jennifer Underwood softly sobbing broke the silence. “It’s alright Jenny” whispered her brother Rufus as he tenderly laid his arm across her shuddering shoulder “It’s alright”

Without a word the family members pushed back their chairs, scraping them across the oak floor as they rose to leave.

Mumbling ensued as one by one they left the dining room, the scene of happier times when the exceedingly wealthy Claude Underwood hosted extravagant dinner parties and regaled his overly appreciative audiences with his humorous stories and witty rapport. But it was he who had the final laugh.

“Disgraceful”

“How could he?”

“But it should have been ours”

Solicitor Solomon Green sat alone for a few moments. Then he placed the letter in his leather briefcase, folded his spectacles which he placed in his pocket, and in an uncustomary moment of mirth he muttered “I just hope the creatures at the Charlton Dog Rescue Centre appreciate his fortune!”


.

Wednesday, July 01, 2015

Fields of tin!


I think I'll be silly this week! Here it is, my contribution to Friday Fictioneers with a big thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting it once again.




The other farmers couldn’t believe it when he turned his fertile field into a graveyard for vehicle scraps. They watched open mouthed as he buried doors, engines, fenders and rusty exhausts beneath the soil.

‘I’ll have the last laugh’ he thought, ‘just wait and see’

One night it rained, really rained. When he drew back his curtains in the morning, where his golden crops once grew cars sprouted from the ground.

'Much more money in metal than maize' he thought as a satisfied smile spread across his face. 'They can keep their fields of gold!'

(95 words)


.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

No idea















The given words at this week's Whirligig are elsewhere, shop, records, way, walk, run, idea, sitting, book, hands, letter and mailbox.


A nine to five job it’s not. Blake’s wife Jane and his kids are used to him  always working, hardly ever being home. Whilst they enjoy family time, more often than not he’s elsewhere.

Such is his life as a private detective, a successful and sought after one.

It’s nineteen fifty-two in the evening. Blake is sitting on a bench supposedly studying the book he grips in his hands. He watches as his mark drop a letter or perhaps a card into the mailbox then walk around the corner. He scribbles a few notes; location, times and such in his book along with a reminder to buy a card for his wife’s birthday. 'Twenty o-seven, Market street, Post Office. Jane card'. His records are always precise, exact and detailed. Blakes follows at a discreet distance.

His mark enters a convenience shop and comes out a minute later with a bouquet of flowers. 'Twenty twelve, North Street, 7/11 Store' is entered into the book.

It’s dark, but a  car comes past headlights ablaze, just as his mark looks over his shoulder. Blakes sidles behind a tree. He got away with it.

It’s twenty twenty-eight precisely and his mark turns into Juniper Avenue. Blake lives in Juniper Avenue. The mark walks to the door of number thirty- two and knocks

Jane opens the door, takes the flowers and kisses the mark. Blake's children excitedly run around and tug on his jacket.

'Twenty thirty-two. 32 Juniper Avenue. I had no idea', he writes in his book. 

There was no way he could have. After all, he’s hardly ever there.

Monday, June 22, 2015

Anyone for tennis?

It's Wordless Wednesday

For the fourth week in a row, I'm sticking with Eastbourne! On Saturday, it was the first day of the Aegon International Tennis Tournament so my camera and I went walkabout!

As usual, clicking on the images enlarges them. 












































































































































.

The Mist

Our prompt at A Prompt Each Day today is one word, Light.

I rarely write verse, but now and again I flex my poetic muscles to make sure they are still in working order!



In the days last light
a silver mist meanders
twixt the trees.

Swirling
slowly.
Chilling the air
midst the shadows of night.



.