The message

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This week I'm returning to (Fiction)Friday. I will keep the prompt to myself so as not to spoil my story!

He awoke with a start. Through the gap in the curtains he saw sunlight. He realised he was in bed alone, he was confused. Where was Jane? He’d overslept. That was it. But why hadn’t she woken him? And it was Saturday, she always stayed in bed a little longer at the weekend.

He sat on the edge of the bed trying to get his mind around what was going on. Images began to fill his head. Things he'd done, things he'd said. During the past few weeks he'd ignored Jane's pleas. He closed his eyes and saw her anguished face, tears running down her cheeks. He heard her voice warning him that unless he changed, she would leave. He'd not taken her seriously. Jane would never leave me he thought.

The bedside clock said eleven fifty nine. Eleven fifty nine pm. PM? But it was daylight. It must have stopped last night.

The telephone rang downstairs. He rushed out of the room and stumbled as he ran down stairs two steps at a time. He grabbed the phone and steadied himself against a doorframe.

‘Is that John Thompson?’ asked a man’s voice at the other end of the line.

‘Erm, er...’. What was happening, for a second or so he’d forgotten his own name. ‘Yes, er yes. Who’s this?’

‘It’s Sergeant Foster... Bridgenorth police? We have something of yours here at the station’

‘My wife, you have Jane, my wife!’ he yelled. Even as he said it he knew he sounded stupid.

‘Mr Thompson, are you alright?’

‘Alright? Am I alright? Yes,yes, of course. I’m sorry Sergeant. What exactly do you have of mine?’

‘Your mobile telephone sir. It was handed in this morning. If you remember, you reported it lost a month or so ago. We just need you to call in and collect it’.

He went back upstairs and pulled a few clothes on. After another quick look around for his watch, he wandered outside and jumped into his car.

Everything around him seemed to be moving in slow motion. The cars in front of him were crawling. He pressed his horn. He pressed it again. The traffic continued at a snail’s pace. One by one they turned off. At last, he thought. He pressed his foot to the floor and began to hurtle forward.

Suddenly a woman wandered out in front of him. He slammed his hand on the horn and stood on the brakes. His car screeched to a halt, but the woman continued to meander across the road without even acknowledging him. He sat for a moment with his head in his hands, and then slowly started off again.

His eye was caught by a young lady wandering along the pavement. It looked like Jane. It was Jane. He slowed the car, wound down his window and called to her. ‘Jane’. She carried on walking looking down at her feet. She hadn’t heard him. ‘Jane’ he shouted, but she turned down an alley and disappeared from sight. What on earth was happening?

He climbed the steps to the police station. It was strangely empty inside. He pressed the bell on the desk but no one appeared. Pressed it again. Nothing stirred. He decided to leave but then he heard a voice behind him.

‘John Thompson I assume. Come for your phone?’

‘Erm, yes. I am... I mean I have’ John stammered.

‘We had to look at your messages when we were trying to ascertain that the phone was yours. It was after all, thirty days ago that you lost it. One message concerned us Mr Thompson. It was sent to you on the night you reported it missing’

Foster slid the phone across the desk. John felt dizzy, hot, cold, all at once. He flipped the phone open and turned it on. The screen told him he had one message. His fingers suddenly felt like jelly as he struggled to press the key.

It was from a number he didn’t recognise. It read ‘You have thirty days left to live. Use them wisely'.

The beach looks different today

Wordless Wednesday
Click on photos to enlarge










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To read and hear my poem 'The beach looks different today' click HERE

Anew

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She stands in darkness atop a hill with the wind in her face, her hair streaming behind her. She glances over her shoulder and watches as another year blows away taking with it unhappy memories and shattered emotions.

As the angry black clouds scurry out of sight the moon appears spreading a silver blanket of hope all around and casting her long grey shadow behind her.

Suddenly all is calm. She looks toward the future. Another year approaches, another chance to start her life anew

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Offered as my contribution to Sunday Scribblings prompt A New Leaf

Delicious!

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This weeks prompt at Sunday Scribblings is Delicious

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Watermelon with red onion and Tabasco

Tabasco sprinkled over popcorn

Balsamic vinegar and ground pepper on strawberries

Grilled strawberry jam and cheese and sandwiches

Cottage cheese with apple sauce

Sliced tart apples with fresh chopped garlic and rock salt

Salt in strong coffee

A mug of hot chocolate sprinkled with chilli powder

Chocolate in chilli con carne or with venison

Mars bar deep fried in batter

And (thanks to Jadey) chocolate shake and fries!

Delicious!

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Rosey - A gift from Africa!

A group of us met at the Bicycle Arms for a drink and a meal on Christmas Eve. We meet there quite often, but for the last few months our nights out have been a little quieter and not as much fun as they used to be. Someone was missing! But she was back for Christmas and we were determined to welcome her home in style. It was never the same without Rosey!

A few days earlier I’d picked her up from the airport. I hardly recognised her when she walked through the arrival door. For starters her normally porcelain complexion had changed to a muddy colour with red and green smudges on her cheeks! She was wrapped in a brightly coloured kaftan type dress and had a large leaf in her hair and sandals on her feet! It seems she was dressed and 'painted' for her journey by some of the women in the African village and she’d faithfully kept everything the same throughout her journey! Round her neck she wore a special necklace to keep her safe and she was to wear it until she arrived back in Africa in January. I commented that the only thing she was missing was a bone through her nose and all I got from her was a stern look!

She spent the following few days with her parents and cats, and shopping for Christmas presents. She brought a few arty-farty craft bits back fron Africa with her. For her mother she brought a very heavy brightly coloured necklace which is so different from the strings of pearls she normally wears. She had one of the men make a smoking pipe for her father and even brought back some special tobacco for him. I’m not suggesting there was anything dodgy about it (even though I suspect there is!) but how she got it through customs without it being confiscated beats me! Oh, her father doesn’t smoke by the way so if he humours her by lighting up on Christmas Day it could turn into quite a party!

We arranged a buffet at the pub for her . We expected to pay for it but the owners of the Bike insisted on doing it for her. We told her to be there at eight, so when nine o’clock came round we knew she was about to bound through the door! And so she did. She hurtled into the bar dropping her basket on the floor, and ran at us with her arms open wide bumping into a couple of tables on the way and knocking drinks flying. Rosey was back!

After much hugging and kissing and all talking at once, she went back to retrieve her basket and informed us that we were to open our presents then and there! Before we opened ours she wanted to show us what she’d got for her cats, Fuz and Scruff. It was a very realistic looking toy rodent. She called it a mouse but itlooked more like a rat to me! It was a battery operated devise which apparently scurried around constantly changing direction.

Needless to say she wanted to demonstrate it to us, and despite my suggestion that it was a bad idea she clicked its switch and popped it onto the floor. Off it went at a vast rate of knots first to the left, then right and then straight toward a group of giggling girls at a table near the fire. Rosey then made the mistake of standing up and shouting ‘catch that mouse!’ You can imagine what happened. As the fury monster closed in on the girls, chaos broke out! Screaming, standing on chairs......I’m sure you can imagine the scene!

We decided to have something to Eat and drink before we started on our gifts just in case any other surprises were in store! In the event our presents were quite sensible. Most of them, anyway. She did give Susan a rather ugly African doll with pins to stick into it because she’d heard she was still having trouble with her ex boyfriend.

I wish you could have seen Dave’s face when he opened his! It was a Borat Mankini in bright green! I can’t wait to see him on the beach wearing it in the summer! She gave Malcolm a tee shirt. Now Malcolm has a horse which he rides every day. The tee shirt has picture of a finger pointing upwards with the words ‘half man’ written below it. Underneath are printed the words ‘half horse’ with a finger pointing down. We instantly got the joke, but Rosie went on to explain that it was a funny way of pointing out who was the animal and who was the rider!

Our generously proportioned friend Daisy is a bit of a chocoholic so she got her a calculator which looked and smelt exactly like a bar of chocolate. Daisy initially thought it was a bar of chocolate which looked like a calculator and launched her teeth into it! Her face was a picture when it beeped at her! Jane is always careful with her small change, ‘look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves’ she always says. Rosey got her a money box which cleverly counts the money as you drop it through the slot in the top!

Then it was my turn. She always laughs at me because I do all my typing with one finger, sometimes extremely quickly! After a while my right hand begins to ache a bit – it is right now! So she got me a hand massager. Not any old hand massager, this one is shaped like a ladies breast! I’ll let you know if it works! I certainly had no intention of demonstrating it in the pub!

The gifts we gave Rosey were far more tame, the usual sort of stuff, make up and sweeties. I wrote her a little poem which I folded up and placed inside a locket which she can wear back in Africa as a reminder of the place she has in the hearts of her friends back home. No, I’m not going to tell you what it says! It’s between us a Rosey.

Someone's knocking on your door!

It’s cold tonight, freezing cold and the snow is swirling all around us. It’s deep on the ground, my feet are like blocks of ice. My friends and I are going door to door singing carols. In one hand we clutch a word sheet and in the other a little lantern on a stick! Some folk fling open their doors and join in the singing, others hand us mince pies and mulled wine. Some ignore us!

Right now we are heading for a door. A special door. It’s the door I’ve been looking forward to visiting all evening.

Gather around. One two three – The holly and the ivy, when they are both full grown....

The door is opening, and guess who is facing me now?

It’s you dear friend and I’ve come here tonight to bid you Season’s Greetings! Thank you for taking the time to drop into my blogs throughout this year and thank you for all the comments you left. Thank you also for entertaining me with your writing, thank you thank you thank you!

Now it’s your turn to join in with the singing. One two three - We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year!

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A Christmas dare!

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This weeks prompt on Sunday Scribblings is Dare.

Dan was always one for a dare. His long suffering wife Julie had spent the last fifteen years shrugging her shoulders, sighing and shaking her head as he’d accepted one dare after another from the silly to the plain stupid. It had of course started long before they’d met. As a child of the 60’s he’d grown up following the escapades of the British comic book hero Dan Dare, pilot of the future! ‘Dan we dare you’ his friends would shout. He got into so much trouble at school! They would dare him to play practical jokes on the teachers, and he accepted them with relish often resulting in detention or suspension. They would get him to play tricks on school bullies twice his size and he accepted the odd black eye as a price worth paying for the admiration poured on him by his peers.

It was the night of the school’s Christmas disco and he was dared to ask a girl for a dance. Not any girl, she was the girl all the boys fantasised over. She was always surrounded by her adoring fans and followed by the best looking and fittest boys in the school! The fact that Dan was a couple of years younger and plagued with acne and excess weight made the challenge all the more attractive to him and a source of enormous amusement to his friends. And guess what? Julie accepted! Yes, Julie. The same Julie that married him ten years later.

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Christmas Eve. Everything was ready for the day to come. Their son Nathan was tucked up in his bed with a stocking hanging from the mantelpiece. In the grate sat a mince pie and a glass of whiskey – Father Christmas’s favourite tipple! Downstairs Dan and Julie were entertaining a few of their neighbours. Conversation and wine flowed. Dan slipped away. He quietly climbed the stairs and soon after reappeared, resplendent in a Santa outfit complete with a flowing white beard and a sack of presents over his shoulder. His plan was to creep into Nathans bedroom making just enough noise to stir him and glimpse Father Christmas delivering his presents.

And that’s when it happened. ‘Dare you to climb up onto the roof and drop a gift down the chimney’ said James from next door. Everybody laughed. Everybody except Julie that is because she saw the expression on Dan’s face.

Julie tried to reason with him, it was after all just a joke. He’d had quite a bit more than normal to drink and she sensed danger. But nothing was going to stop him, not even his friends pleading with him not to attempt it. They tried to physically stop him but it was no good. He climbed onto the water butt, then clambered onto the flat roof above the kitchen. From there he grabbed hold of a drainpipe and started shinning upwards. A sudden gasp from all below as with a crack the pipe began to break away from the brickwork. Nothing would stop him now. He grabbed the guttering and heaved himself up onto the sloping roof sending two or three tiles crashing the ground below. Julie and the others looked on hands covering their mouths and looks of terror in their eyes.

He almost reached the top of the roof when he suddenly lost his grip and started sliding down. His heal caught in a gutter bringing him to a sudden halt. A collective sigh of relief was heard from those below. Undaunted, he started once more on his ascent this time managing to reach the chimney stack. To the horror of the onlookers he stood on the ridge of the roof, swaying once or twice before regaining his balance and dropping a small package down the chimney.

The noise woke Nathan. He sat up and rubbed his sleepy eyes. The mince pie and whisky were still in the grate and his stocking was empty. He could hear noise outside in the garden and he got out of bed and wandered, half asleep, out of his room and down the stairs. The front door was wide open. Nathan went outside unnoticed and looked up to see what the adults were staring at.

‘Father Christmas’ he shrieked and he burst into laughter. Julie grabbed him in her arms not knowing what to say. She rushed him indoors and told him that he had to go back to bed and close his eyes or Santa would go and leave him nothing. He ran back to his room and Julie heard him slam his door and leap into bed unaware of the real drama unfolding above his head.

The seriousness of the situation started to dawn on Dan and he began to look distressed. His friends implored him to stay still whilst they went to get help. Julie rushed to the phone and tried calling the Fire and Rescue Service for help, but the phone was dead. She went back out and looked up at Dan who was beginning to show signs of panicking. It was then they heard a sound in the distance. A whooshing sound and the jingling of bells. And then with a flash of light and a shower of stardust a golden sleigh led by four reindeer swooped down from the sky and a red-clad arm grabbed Dan and carried him away.

It was Christmas morning. When Dan opened his eyes the daylight hurt his head. He could just make out his Santa outfit and beard scattered all over the bedroom floor. Julie appeared with a tray of breakfast and coffee.

‘What happened?’ asked Dan pressing his aching temples. Julie told him about the dare and explained how relieved she was when he collapsed onto the grass and fell fast asleep before he accepted it! 'So it was all a dream’ he murmered. ‘It must have been’ said Julie with a knowing grin on her face.

Nathan had woken early, the way children do on Christmas morning. His stocking was stuffed with presents. All that remained in the grate was a few crumbs and an empty glass - and a small soot-covered package.

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A seasonal Carry On Tuesday awaits you HERE!

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It snowed today!

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It snowed today

Hip hip hooray

Slid down a hill

sat on a tray

Built a snowman

fingers froze

Used a carrot

for his nose

Threw a snowball

at my dad

The best-est time

I ever had

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But then the snowfall

turned to rain

my snowman melted

and ran down the drain

Not long 'til Christmas!

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‘tis the season to be jolly

Twinkling trees and wreathes of holly

Kids write notes to Santa Claus

Carol singers knock on doors.

In the next few days I’ll be getting my decorations out of the cupboard and scattering them around my apartment in readiness for the Christmas holidays. I’ll be wrapping gifts and placing them below my tree whilst singing along to seasonal songs and carols.

But how things have changed. Christmas as we know it today started in the Victorian era of the early 1800s. Father Christmas made his first appearance as did the festive feast although it was to be some years before turkey appeared on the dinner table. The giving of gifts and pulling of crackers, singing around the piano and kissing under the mistletoe.

Today Christmas comes early. For a couple of months now, our shops have been bursting at the seams with cards and affordable presents. For several weeks the streets of our towns and villages have been lined with lights and our shopping malls have echoed with the sound of seasonal music.

As I was sorting out my decorations my mind went back to my childhood. I remember going to bed on Christmas Eve leaving the rooms below looking exactly as they did on any other day of the year. I remember waking early in the morning to find a stocking full of goodies on the end of my bed which Santa Claus had dropped in while I was asleep. After unwrapping pencils and yoyos and tipping out oranges and nuts it was time to go downstairs for breakfast, and then return to my room to put on my best clothes.

Only then were we allowed to enter the living room which during the night had been transformed into an Aladdin’s cave criss-crossed with brightly coloured garlands, and massive paper bells. A tree which reached the ceiling laden with baubles and glistening little lights, stood guard over a pile of presents and a glowing fire which crackled and hissed in the grate below.

It was better back then. At least, I think so. Today, so much goes into preparation that the day itself is something of an anti climax. By the time the day arrives the tree is dropping its needles and you’ve heard more than enough of Christmas music.

So why am I writing this now? Why has my blog taken on a Christmassy look so soon? Why am I already decorating my home? After all there are still another nine days to go.

I don’t really know!

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