Thursday, May 28, 2015

Good riddance

Our given words at 3 Word Wednesday this week are Misery, privilege and stale.

I don’t know how she put up with him. He was such a misery. He was either asleep in a chair or wandering around the house or garden looking bored.

He led such a privileged life. She looked after him hand and foot. Food was put in front of him whenever he wanted it. Sometimes he would just sniff it and walk away as if it was stale or inedible.

One day he just disappeared. Where he went she had no idea. He’ll probably return.

Cats are like that, aren’t they?


Monday, May 25, 2015

Hello dear

This week's picture at Magpie Tales is open to all sorts of interpretations. This is mine.

She hardly missed a day. A minute or so before I opened my restaurant door I would hear the familiar tap-tap of her umbrella on the window pane.

‘Hello dear’ she would say as she walked past me to the hook upon the wall. There she would hang up her straw hat, shopping bag and brolly, rain or shine, summer or winter 

She always did that.

She liked the table by the fireplace. She would study the menu for ages before calling me over. ‘Dish of the day and a nice cup of tea dear’ she would say.

She always said that!

The other regular customers always looked over and waved to her. ‘Hello dear’ she would say. 

Every time.

One day, last February it was, I walked over to her with her meal. It was steak pie that day. She seemed to be asleep which was very unusual.

She never woke up.

To this day her straw hat, shopping bag and brolly still hang on the hook upon the  wall. It’s not even my restaurant any more, but still it remains there. I like that. 

She probably would too.

Picture : Still Life, 1907 by John Frederick Peto 


Sunday, May 24, 2015

Rosey gets needled!

The given words at this week's Sunday's Whirligig are needlework, dominoes, mend, bleached, fool, method, country, stones, laugh, humming, olive, sheep.

My mate Jake and I were sitting in the pub playing dominoes. Seriously, playing dominoes in the rub-a-dub like a couple of sad old gits! Mind you, what my friend Rosey was doing at the next table looked even more odd. She was stabbing a piece of cloth with a needle which had a tangled web of brightly coloured cotton attached. And she was humming a tune to herself! All she needed was a rocking chair and a blanket across her knees and the scene would have been complete! We just had to laugh!

I asked if she was mending something. She frowned and said “Certainly not”
She said she was being creative, artistic. She was expressing herself through the medium of needlework.

Jake and I were more than a little curious so we tore ourselves away from our exciting tournament and took a closer look.

It was... interesting. I asked her if it was a tapestry.

“No” she said, “It’s embroidery”. Then she launched into one of her pet tirades; the one about  how the famous Bayerre Tapestry is actually an embroidery and the two methods are often confused.

Lecture over,  she went on to explain that she was using silk thread to fashion a country scene with trees, sheep, and rugged rocks. 

"You could fool me" said Jake pointing at a bowl. "They look more like those stuffed olives!" Rosey looked at him stony-faced!

I asked what the red blobs were and she said “Poppies”

“Are they?” I said. “Are you sure?”

“OK” she said “If you must know I’ve pricked my finger several times with this needle so they are  blood stains” She said she didn't think they wouldn’t wash out, and if she bleached them they would go white.

“Then you could say they are daisies” I suggested.

Her deep sigh was the signal we were no longer welcome at her table, so we let her get on with her artistic endeavour. We abandoned our dominoes  and had a game of darts instead. Jake won.

Saturday, May 23, 2015


The prompt at Sunday Scribblings 2 this week is Walking.

The train was on time, I managed to get a seat, and the coffee on board was drinkable. I walked out of the train station into an alien world. I had just thirty minutes to find my way to my appointment.

I saw a priest and asked him where I could find Higgledy House. ‘Ah’ he boomed. ‘Walk onward until you come upon St Christopher’s. Take the right turn and go forward to St. Peters. Cross at the junction, then look out for a synagogue on the other side. Then ask again’

I did as I was told, then caught sight of a fellow on a bench. He looked as if he’d had a couple of drinks, but there was no one else around so I asked him to direct me to Higgledy House. ‘See the Black Horse? Well go – hic - past it, then go on until you see the - burp- Pig and Whistle. Go left and when you get to the Kings Head ask again’ 

When I got there I found an old lady struggling along on her Zimmer frame. ‘Can you point toward Higgledy House please?’ ‘Yes young man’ she croaked. ‘See the doctor’s surgery? Turn left there then walk until you see the Sunset Retirement Home. Go over the bridge and you’ll see the Age Concern shop. Walk past the hospice and you’ll see it next to the District Hospital’. I thanked her and continued on my way.

There at last! I strode through the door, walked up to an extremely glamorous receptionist and announced my arrival. ‘I think you may have got the wrong place’ she said. ‘This is Raggedy Hall, not Higgledy House. You need to go out again, and when you see Buzz Fashion turn right. Go past Glitz Shoes and continue until you see Diamonds Jewellers. Just beyond Miss Trendy Boutique you’ll see the train station. Higgledy House is next to it. 

I made it on time, had my interview and got the job! I wandered into St Christopher’s Church to offer up a prayer of thanks, then marched into the Pig and Whistle were I had a celebratory drink.... and another celebratory drink and another. I staggered out, tripped over damaging my designer trousers and ended up in the District Hospital! 

Thursday, May 21, 2015

My special place

A one hundred words for Friday Fictioneers

You’re sheltering me from the spring rain again. I love sitting here.

In summer, you shade me from the sun. I picnic here don’t I?

As a kid, I climbed you. I fell once and broke my arm, remember?

My first love and I carved our initials in your bark. Look, it’s still there.

In autumn, you’ll roll out a golden carpet and in winter you’ll stand naked and proud you old show off! 

But unlike me you’ll be reborn. 

You were there for those before me; you’ll be there for those that follow.

But today it’s me you shelter.

OK, so it's a picture of a bush, not a tree. Let's call it artistic license!

Photo credit: Santoshwriter

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

The Darkness

I wrote this murky tale for 3 Word Wednesday in about three minutes flat so please forgive me for any errors!

This week's given words are jagged, intimate and thirst. I'm not sure where it came from but here goes! 

She could have been dreaming; maybe she was who knows?

Where was she? What was she was doing in this murky room? 

A cloaked figure, maybe a man drifted towards her from the shadows. Did she know him? She wasn't sure, but as he approached she was overcome by a feeling of warmth and eager anticipation.

He came to within inches of her; she felt the warmth of his breath on  her cheeks as his eyes peered deep inside her. 

At once she was overwhelmed by a thirst for him, to be intimate, to be carried away to another place. They embraced, they kissed and she was in paradise. Then suddenly his tongue became as a jagged blade savagely attacking her. The pain was too much to bear. She pulled herself away; her eyes screwed closed fearing what she might see. He put up no resistance, simply sighed. She sensed a warm trickle of blood running from her lips. 

When she dared to look she found herself in the semi-darkness of her precious boudoir surrounded by all the things she loved. So it must have been a dream.

But in the mirror, she could just make out traces of blood on her face, and behind her in the shadows, a cloaked figure leaning against the wall.