Trip #100WW

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He wouldn’t have liked his strangers going through his things and putting them on display. He was a private, independent and adventurous young man with a quiet talent. Those strangers probably thought they were doing a good thing; does anyone recognise this bag and contents? Handed to police (in random country). It only made me more heartbroken though because it meant he had truly gone. He wouldn’t leave his things like that. I suppose I should be happy to get them back but I’d rather it had been him instead.         

(Inspired from; https://bikurgurl.com/2017/11/08/100-word-wednesday-week-44 with thanks.)

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Luna #writephoto

Autumn moons are the best, Luna thought as she settled her back against the tree trunk. Her pale blue eyes fixed on the clear night sky in which a crest moon could perfectly be seen. She held her palms out and felt the magic in the air. The flow was faint but there was still enough there to help complete her plans.

Luna smiled and gathered the magic into her. It seemed, for a moment, that she had a rainbow coloured thread running over her fingers and hands. Then there was nothing.

‘Soon there would be a beginning,’ Luna whispered.

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2017/11/09/thursday-photo-prompt-luna-writephoto/ with thanks)

Postcard #39

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Saw this postcard at the last car boot sale of the year and it so reminded me of you. I was hoping it would reach you before Halloween but doubtful with the village post! Found this book too and it seemed interesting, something about a vampire virus. Anyway, hope to see you around Christmas.

Ben.

#ThreeLineTales

three line tales week 91: a raven at Stonehenge for Halloween

They say the birds only come to those who can control the magic. You never believed that and just thought it was bad luck that birds seemed to follow or attack you. It took that one bird on that one strange day to change your mind and now you can feel the tingling of the magic within your head.

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2017/10/26/three-line-tales-week-91 with thanks).

Ebb #writephoto

When the tide went out it left the small beach cove layered in seaweed which made it a dangerous place to go for an walk. It was my favorite spotted though because it was empty of people and great for finding items to make my crafts with.

I was walking along the edge, putting interesting bits of wood, shells and other items in my basket. The sea, though distance was still loud as the autumn wind was strong and a drizzle was falling. Letting my raincoat hood fall back, I heard the loud cries of a cat.

Frowning, I followed the sound and a few meters down on the beach I saw a movement of black and heard a strangled cry. Placing down my basket, I carefully walked over the seaweed and slippy rocks. Twice, I felt like I was going to slip but I was able to keep my balance.

From out of a large pile of seaweed rose a small, skinny black cat. He’s huge green eyes focused on me and he’s meows were so pleading it was heartbreaking. I slowly crept closer, but the cat didn’t try to run away, in fact he seemed to be awaiting me. Bit unusual for a cat!

‘Okay, kitty. I’m only here to help you,’ I said gently.

I began taking the long strips of wet seaweed off the cat’s back, thinking at any moment he would do a runner. My fingers touched the cat’s fur and I realised he was soaked through. He meowed at me and kept trying to pulled himself free.

‘How long have been here, cat? Did you decided to take a walk and fell into this seaweed?’ I asked.

He meowed at me some more. I took the last slimy piece off his back then moved on to his legs. Somehow, he’d really got himself wrapped up.  As I untangled a third leg the cat struggled out and shook himself.

‘You’re free now,’ I said with a smile.

The black cat pressed up against me, meowing more softer this time. I stroked his wet head and back. He was so skinny! His tail swayed around, sometimes hitting my leg, I ignored that as I glanced around.

‘Will you let me carry you?’ I asked, ‘just in case you get stuck again?’

Carefully, I picked him up and let him climb up to my shoulder. He pressed his head to my ear and give a low purr. I turned and began making my way back, slowly. It was hard going with just one arm for balance and the sight of a cat blocking my view but we made it back. Just in time for it to start raining.

I grabbed my basket and hurried home. The cat not seeming to mind as he bounced on my shoulder. Entering the  seaside village, I made straight for my shop front then around to the back door which was my front door to my apartment above.  When we got in and up the narrow stairs, I set the cat down then my basket. Taking off my shoes, coat and jumper, I left everything at the front door and went to get a towel.

I dried myself off then the cat. He wasn’t wearing a collar but he was too friendly not to be someone’s pet. Though, I’d not seen a black cat around here, since my own; Web who’d died two years ago. Luckily, I had kept her stuff and I give the black cat a bowl of water and a handful of cat treats that I’d not thrown away yet.

In the coming months, I tried hard to find the cat’s owner, but no one ever came forward to claim him. He made himself at home and was loved by everyone who came into the shop. People also said how fitting it was for a black cat to live in a witch’s shop. I had to agree and some days, I did wonder if he had actually come to me. A witch wasn’t a witch without her black cat familiar!

Oh, I called him Ebb by the way. That seemed kind of fitting.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2017/10/26/thursday-photo-prompt-ebb-writephoto with thanks).

Jump

14 John Robinson 17 September 2017

There were flowers on the bridge again. I noticed them on my way to work. It seemed to be the way around here and everyone knew what they meant so no questions were ever asked.

I’d never seen anyone jump. I heard they did it at night so there was less chance of them being stopped. I didn’t understand it. What could make people decided to do that? Only they could answer, for only they knew what was in their heads.

I went to church and learnt it was the Devil that made people jump. Walking over the bridge the next day, I stopped and looked over the wall. Below the murky waters flowed, looking as inviting sewage. And yet, I felt drawn. It looked so calm down there and so peaceful, not like the madness of this city. You work or you die!

You jump and live…..

 What was that voice? Where had it come from?

Why did I feel the urge to climb the wall?

Be Free! Jump!

I was climbing up. I was dropping my things, taking off my coat. People were gasping, shouting. The wind felt so good on my face. My feet were leaving the wall.

I wanted to be free.

 

(Inspired by; https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/09/17/sunday-photo-fiction-september-17th-2017/ with thanks).

Spur #writephoto

It was a strange thing to find in a charity shop and I don’t know why I was drawn to it. The spur was rusty but the spiky wheel still spun and it could still be placed onto the back of a boot. I didn’t want it for that though. I brought it, along with the other items I’d picked up then I took it home.

There was no where to place the spur in any room of my house, so I settled for putting it in the cacti bowl that lived in the kitchen. Then I just forgot about it which is just something everyone does.

I don’t know how long had passed but one night I had this weird dream where I was walking through the desert and I came to this abandoned wooden mining town. I walked through the silent buildings and saw a spur, just like the one I’d brought, laying on the sandy ground. I think I tried to pick it up but the dream ended.

After breakfast that morning, I looked for the spur in the cacti bowl. It wasn’t there. Shrugging and thinking one of my housemates had moved it, I went to university for the day and once again forgot all about it.

 

I had another dream days later and I remember this one more because I don’t normally recall my dreams that well. Once again, I was in the desert and walking through that abandoned silent town. I saw the spur and this time I picked it up. I spun the spiky wheel and sliced my finger.

A drop of blood hit the sand at my feet and sunk into the grains. I frowned and began to move on but the ground trembled and a zombie hand shot out and grabbed my boot. I screamed, yelled and tried to kick away. The hand hung on. Panic rose within me, I kicked hard but that caused the hand to pull more out of the sand and I realised the hand wasn’t trying to drag me down but it get itself up!

Without thinking, I jabbed the spur into the rotting hand. The fingers seemed to loosen. I jabbed harder, sticking the spur in like a knife and leaving it there. I kicked with my other foot and punched with my hands until the zombie hand let me go. I stumbled away then finding my feet fled the ghost town.

I awoke in a pool of sweat and shivering. My bed was a mess and my breathing was super loud. I got up and went to the window. It was a cold and wet autumn day but I opened the window and let the strong wind blast the reminds of the dream away.

I had a shower, got dressed and was grateful that I didn’t have any uni classes to attend today. The house was quiet, so I didn’t know who was in. There were dishes in the sink though and the living room was a mess. I tidied up, hoping it would take my mind off everything. Also, I had to find that spur!

When it didn’t turn up, I stuck a note on the fridge and asked my housemates to please return the spur to me. I went to my room and tried to study but my mind was far from my essay and research reading. Instead, I did some internet searching into spurs and abandoned towns in the desert. I didn’t find many answers to the questions I didn’t even know I had.

I went out in the afternoon to the shops and to the town’s library which was nothing compared to the uni’s library but at least I finally got a clear head to study! When I got back that evening, I asked my three housemates about the spur but none of them had seen it.

‘Like a cowboy boot spur?’ Josh asked.

I nodded.

They were all sat in the living room, the TV on an American comedy show and a menu for a local Chinese on the coffee table.

‘Why do you have one of them, Rachel?’ Holly cut in.

‘ It seemed interesting….’ I replied.

‘We’re going to order, soon,’ Kaden switching out, you want anything?’

‘Sure,’ I sighed and picked the menu up.

 

That night the dream came again. This time though I was more prepared and though the zombie scared me, I let him raise from the sand. He was dressed in the reminds of  brown leather pants and a jacket. Holding down my fear, I held the spur out to him. With a loud groan he took it from my stretched out hand then turned away from me.

My eyes flicked open. My dark student bedroom morphing before me. I fumbled for the lamp and got blinded by the light. I rubbed my face and hobbled to the bathroom. Afterwards, I padded back and got into bed again. The near silence of the house hurt my ears and I just wanted to go to sleep again.

I never saw the spur again.

 

(Inspired from; https://scvincent.com/2017/10/19/thursday-photo-prompt-spur-writephoto/ with thanks).

Gone #ThreeLineTales

three line tales week 90: New York subway

On the wrong train! Was in hurry just got on the 1st 1 it’s full of strange people who keep staring at me it’s dead quiet no 1 is doing anything. Should get off at the next stop but scared 2.  

(Inspired from; https://only100words.xyz/2017/10/19/three-line-tales-week-90 with thanks).

The Hanging Tree #FridayFictoneers

I’d always admired the old tree because of it’s size and odd shape, but the dark history that was attached to it always made me shiver. People had been hung for their crimes on the thick lowest branch. The rope cuts could still be seen between the knots. Every Halloween people came to ‘see’ ghostly figures hanging down and ‘hear’ the moans of the lost. I though, only had to look out of my bedroom window to see those souls and though I’d tried to get use to them I couldn’t.

 

(Inspired from; https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/10/18/13-october-2017/ with thanks).

The Window #TwitteringTales

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It was her only source of comfort in the dank basement but it also showed her a view of an outside world she could never be a part of again.

(Inspired from; https://katmyrman.com/2017/10/17/twittering-tale-44-17-october-2017/ with thanks).