Spike #3LineTales

three line tales, week 158: a border with a barbed wire fence

Holding my dog Spike’s collar, we both watched my husband, Adam, putting up the barbwire on top of the new chain link fence in the back garden.

Adam glanced down from his ladder at me and my mastiff, with a grumpy look that said he wasn’t happy for a number of reasons.

I  threw my arms around Spike into a tight hug and whispered, ‘this is the final straw, Spiky, you get out chasing cats, dogs and neighbours again, it’ll be dogs’ home for you and heaven knows what’ll happen then, promise to be a good boy from now on, okay?’

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2019/02/07/three-line-tales-week-158/ with thanks).

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Gated #CCC

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Fred often walked his dogs through Baker’s Field but this afternoon, he arrived to see a towering fence and large padlocked gates barring the way.

‘What’s going on here then?’ he asked.

The greyhounds whined and sniffed around at all the new smells.

Fred spotted a fallen notice board, he picked it up and read aloud, ‘Land sold. Now owned by Red Brook Housing Contractors. Private property. Keep out!’

Throwing the sign away in disgust, Fred walked back to the path.

 

(Inspired by; https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/02/06/crimsons-creative-challenge-13/ with thanks).

Bobbin’ Robin #3LineTales

Three line tales, week 157: a robin in a snowy bird feeder

When snow fell, Davy put out extra food for the birds, he felt sorry they had to search bare tree branches and frozen ground. Today, the robin came and Davy enjoyed watching him hopping about and chasing other birds away. Davy thought; it’s the simple things in life that make it all worthwhile.    

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2019/01/31/three-line-tales-week-157/ with thanks).

 

 

Dear Diary

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Dear Diary,

Thank God it’s February! I thought January would never end, it felt so long! Sadly, winter is still here and it’s been snowing A LOT over the last few days. There’s probably about five inches out there now, looks like twice that on the hills and peaks!

This morning, I was woken up by loud bleating and thinking a sheep had got stuck in my garden, I got up. Actually, it was a farmer leading his flock through the village. The poor things were covered in snow! I guess they must have been out over night and the farmer was bringing them home.

Strange to think that I’ve become use to such scenes. When I moved to Scotland six years ago, I developed a worry for the sheep I saw. An odd thing for a London born and breed city woman but if you remember my mental health break down was so bad that my anxiety and paranoia were out of control.

The first time a sheep got it’s head stuck in my fence, I freaked out so bad the farmer had to get his wife to help calm me down. It was actually thanks to her that I owed my recovery too. She taught me that Highland sheep were one of the hardiest breeds and they were fine to roam the hills alone. I don’t know why that knowledge help me but it did.

I’ve been thinking that this year I should move back to London and my apartment once more, try to pick up my career again and get on with my life. I’d have to switch the rent back on to my grandparent’s cottage and say goodbye to Scotland though.

That thought just doesn’t feel right now which is weird because I never wanted to come here in the first place. Being here though suits me so much better then being in London, perhaps I should just stay?

 

Snowy Day

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The overnight frost had caused the snow to freeze. It crunched under my boots like loose stones. I had been trying hard not to make noise; an impossibility!

The vixen’s call for cubs to come home made my heart sank. I had split-second caught red flashes of foxes across the river half an hour ago and had followed a trail since. Now it seemed I had missed my chance to photograph the cubs playing in the snow.

I sighed and took a few photos of the scenery. Not what I wanted but there was no reason to waste the opportunity.

Wool #CCC

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For generations, the men of my family had sheared the sheep and the women turned the fleece into wool skeins. The money gained allowed my great-great-grandmother to open a small factory and shop.

Despite many difficulties, the businesses survived but after the 2001 foot and mouth crisis, everything was lost. My siblings, cousins and I decided not to give up. We brought groups of sheep famous for their wool, rare sheep breeds, angora goats, angora rabbits and alpacas.

We made and sold specialist pure wool and mixes, thus building the family business back.

(Inspired by; https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/01/23/crimsons-creative-challenge-11/ with thanks).

 

 

 

Broken #FridayFictioneers

The cat was scratching the door again.

‘It’s too cold to go out,’ I said sternly.

Scratch, Scratch, ‘meow-ow.’

‘It’s snowing!’

‘Meeeeeooooowwww!’

‘No!’

I turned my back then heard an awful cracking sound. Spinning around, I saw spider webs forming over the glass door. The cat dropped down and away as the cracking continued upwards.

Luckily, none of the glass fell out and I was able to tape everything together for the time being.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/01/16/18-january-2018/ with thanks).

Boxing Day

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Heather looked into her new pug puppy’s bed. There was a small golden box.

‘What is this?’ she wondered.

‘He forgot to give that to you yesterday in the excitement of everything,’ her boyfriend Ben said.

Heather laughed, unwrapped and opened the box. Inside was an engagement ring. She turned to Ben who’d gotten down on one knee.

‘Will you marry me?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Heather cried.

Onward #WritePhoto

The people of what had been Kirby town had been traveling for months, walking on the hard rocky animal tracks through the foggy and rain soaked mountain range. There seemed to be no end in sight and it was like they had been cursed to walk forever.

Wearily and hungrily, they followed their prince on his bedraggled white stallion and his surviving guards in their tattered livery. No one was sure where they were going but the wizard kept claiming the Gods would tell the prince soon enough.

A fine rain was falling and the wind kept driving into the people and animals. There was little shelter and half delirious some of the people started to believe the mountains were judging them.

But what would mountains know of having to flee your burning town? Of trying to save women from rape and murder at the hands of an army from a distant land? Of there being no help, no hope, nothing left but charred reminds of what had been?

‘Is that a cave or a gap?’ the prince muttered.

He was exhausted and finding it hard to keep the strength his people needed of him. Steering his horse off of the track and up a small ledge. He saw that a gaping hole opened inside the nearest mountain, like mouth that had been punched in.

The prince slide off his horse and lead the stallion over. The cave seemed back enough for everyone and it was also dry inside.

Prays were said to the Gods and a few people suggested that perhaps their fate was turning. Maybe tonight the prince would be told where to lead them too. Everyone settled into the cave, finding a large chamber for twelve horses, seven ponies, five goats, four dogs, two cows, one ox, one kitten and a crate full of chickens. There was also other chambers which the hundred odd humans scattered themselves about in.

No fires could be lit, there was no dry wood. The people ate whatever they had foraged, got as comfortable as they could and tried to sleep.

The prince woke early, feeling uneasy. He looked at the ceiling of the cave and wondered what to do.

‘My prince?’ ask the wizard, ‘any new thoughts?’

‘None,’ the prince uttered.

The wizard nodded and taking up his gnarled staff went out into the misty, rainy morning.

‘Shall we move on?’ the captain of the guards asked.

The prince looked around, taking in the closest children who were so tried and hungry they could no longer cry.

‘No. It seems safe enough here. We shall rest as long as we can.’

A few days passed and the people had made the best of things. Wood had been dried for a fire big enough to cook and dry clothes upon. The animals were providing milk and eggs now they were rested and grazing often. Everyone felt less hungry and tried.

On the four day, the wizard came back.

‘I have been seeing what there is to be seen,’ he announced, ‘and it looks like we must continue. The weather is turning and I fear we shall face greater hardships.’

The prince was fell silent in thought. A few voices give suggestions but at last the prince spoke, ‘tomorrow we leave. Go and find food, wood and prepare. We can’t stay here and must make it to some other town or city for the winter.’

Onward, the people of Kirby town traveled though a gap between two mountains where it stopped raining and began snowing. Some regretted leaving the cave but they knew if they had stayed they would have died, at least this way they had a chance.

On and on they pushed as winter bit in and heaped more harshness on them like never before. Some did not make it, but other weeks later, on the eve of the winter festival stood and looked down upon a valley and a town within.

Spirits soared and the people head forward. The prince feared they would be rejected or find the town in ruined but they were welcome in. A great hall lay at the heart of the town, heated by many fires and decorated with evergreen plants. The Lord welcomed them from his high seat and the prince counseled with him.

Dawn arose on the winter festival morning, crisp snow covered everything and a fine mist hung over the mountains. The people of Kirby all slept peacefully for the first time, warmed by the fires of the great hall, knowing they were safe for the time being.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/12/06/thursday-photo-prompt-onward-writephoto/ with thanks).

 

Untrodden #WritePhoto

The snow lay thick across everything. Hilda stepped outside her house, admiring the view and taking a photo with her phone. This early in the morning, nothing but birds had touched the snow and it looked as pure as it been in the clouds.

Hilda felt like laughing, she wasn’t sure why, maybe due to the overwhelming joy in her chest? She loved winter, there was just something so magical and special about the season compared to all the others. Maybe, it was also because her family came from Russia, the home of winter.

It was too cold to laugh, her breath was misting badly in front of her because she had been stood too long. Instead, she smiled and carried on walking down the country lane. There was no wind but some loose snow was drifting from tree branches. Hilda wished it would snow again, there was nothing like the feeling of snowflakes on warm skin.

Following the path around, she came to a breathtaking sight. Snow covered hills rose in the distance, the tops of which were covered by fog. Naked trees spiked the fields, frost bitten and snow draped. A wobbly wood and wire fence ran to the left of her, frozen snow domed the posts.

She scooped a handful of snow up in her gloved hands, patted it down and threw it at a near by tree. It fell short with a soft plop. Hilda laughed, feeling such like a child again that she could no longer contain herself. As her voice faded, she heard something, a faint cry?

Holding her breath, she listened and heard what sounded like a baby crying. The spell of magical winter gone, Hilda grew concerned and tried to follow the sound. It seemed to be coming from the tree she had thrown the snowball at.

How was it possible that a baby was out here alone? she wondered.

Hilda searched around the tree trunk, the crying had grown louder. She moved some snow away and found a little hollow. What was that inside? She reached in, thinking it just more snow but instead her hands withdrew something else. Holding it up to her face, Hilda saw the tiniest kitten she had every seen. It was snow white, with blue eyes and a touch of a pink mouth.

‘Oh! You poor thing!’ Hilda cried, ‘What are you doing out here?’

The kitten give a small whimper.

Quickly unzipping her coat, Hilda tugged the kitten inside to keep it warm. Zipping up again, she inspected the trunk and roots of the tree carefully but she found nothing else. Still worried that there might be more kittens or a mother cat out here, Hilda wandered from tree to tree, bush to bush, anywhere an animal could hide from freezing.

Sometime later and far down the lane, Hilda had to give up which really wasn’t what she wanted to do. There had been no other signs of cats though and Hilda’s worry had moved on to the kitten in her coat. She could feel it’s warm and gentle breathing against her chest.

Heading back home, Hilda decided she would have to find out how to take care of the kitten. She had never had a pet before. Maybe, someone had just lost the little thing and she could find the owner in the village or at one of the farms?

As soon as I know the kitten is okay, I’ll do that, Hilda decided.

Days later and after a lot of asking around, no one had come to claim the kitten. Hilda had decided to name her Snowy and she was doing great. Her time outside had’t seemed to have effected her that much. Snowy was growing stronger all the time and Hilda had fallen in love with her.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/11/29/thursday-photo-prompt-untrodden-writephoto/ with thanks).