Mill #CCC

I didn’t like the mill. There was something odd like it was only pretending to be an old wheat processing place.

There was no point sharing this worry. Nobody believed in my notions. It was best to keep quiet and get on like everyone else. Rumours about the New Law Army taking people away were circling again, so it was best to do nothing.

Whatever the mill was – real or a hide out for spies- I had to let it go. It wasn’t worth investigating and getting taken away for.

Godmon forever watched us and knew all we did.

 

(Inspired by; https://crispinakemp.com/2020/02/19/crimsons-creative-challenge-67/ with thanks).

Beau #FFftPP

file6741301061595

Beau stolen my heart. I wasn’t looking for a pet when I met him. I was driving home after the death of my beloved uncle and Beau was eating a dead rabbit on the road side.

I took him to an animal centre and hoped his family would come. Nobody did and Beau was put up for adoption but he had problems. I connected the shelter for an update and learnt that, so I decided to rescue him again.

Saving Beau sealed our fate together.

 

(Inspired by; https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2020/02/12/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2020-week-07/ with thanks).

Storm #writephoto

The remains of the tower rose in the distance. It was hard actually to call it a tower now because it just looked like a lump of rock on the grassy hillside. It was the place Rhys and Ffion always met at and had been since they were children.

Today, Ffion had arrived first. She entered the tower and sat down on some stones  crafted into a bench. Above, someone had built a roof and blocked off what had been a spiral staircase. It was a freezing but sturdy little shelter.

Ffion listened to the strong gusts of wind blasting around this Welsh hill and the rain spray soaking everything. There was no warmth to be had in the tower but at least she was out of the elements.

She was bundled in a winter coat, hat, scarf and gloves with a heavy thick knitted jumper and thermal long sleeved t-shirt underneath. Also, she wore  woollen leggings, a long grey skirt and ankle boots. Not the normal clothes of a winter hill walker.

Ffion tried to stay warm and not let the guilty thoughts creep in. Her excuse to her husband and children had been an afternoon meeting friends for coffee. Instead of driving into town, she had come out here and parked the car at the bottom of the hills.

Ffion had followed a rough path up to the tower for an hour trying to think only of Rhys. Would he be waiting already? What would he been wearing today? Had his wife finally forced him to shave off his beard which I so love? 

Shifting her numbing body on the bench, she looked at the moss covered stones and distracted herself by counting. She reached forty then heard footsteps outside. Standing up quickly, Ffion saw Rhys enter the tower and she rushed to him.

The hugged tightly, despite their clothes being damp then Rhys pulled Ffion back inside. They sat on the bench, still embracing and breath each other in.

‘A storm’s coming,’ Rhys said softly, ‘how long did you say you would be gone for?’

‘All afternoon,’ Ffion answered.

Rhys nodded. He took off his gloves and pressed a warm hand to Ffion’s flushed cheek, ‘Fy cariad¹,’ he spoke huskily, ‘dwi wedi dy golli di².’

‘Me too, fy annwly³,’ Ffion gushed, ‘and she still hasn’t made you shave your beard!’

Rhys laughed as Ffion ran her fingers over his thick black beard.

‘I won’t do it. No matter what she says,’ Rhys answered, ‘because I know you love it.’

‘Yes, yes I do!’

Ffion took off her gloves and put her hand over Rhys’ on her cheek. She turned slightly into his palm and nuzzled against him before planting a soft kiss. In return, Rhys pressed his forehead to her’s and tightened his other arm around her back. He dropped his head and pressed his lips to her’s.

‘I can’t wait any longer,’ Rhys groaned.

‘Nor me. Let’s do it,’ Ffion said and kissed him back.

They were quick in their passion because it was cold. Only the necessary clothes were removed and there was hardly any need for a warm up as they were both eager to have each the other. The rhythm of their bodies was in tune, their cries of pleasure masked by the howling wind and they shared the release of desire when it arrived.

In the after bliss they cuddled, listening to the rain pouring down and the steady drip of water coming down the stones of the tower.

‘Rwy’n dy garu di,’ Rhys whispered into Ffion’s hair.

Dwi’ dy garu di hefy,’ Ffion breathed back.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2020/02/13/thursday-photo-prompt-storm-writephoto/ with thanks).

 

 

Welsh Words Translations 

¹Fy cariad – my love

³Fy annwly –  my dear

²dwi wedi dy golli di – I have missed you

Rwy’n dy garu di – I love you

Dwi’ dy garu di hefy – I love you too

The Tour #CCC

They built the stone walls to keep everyone in and hundreds of years later, the walls were still standing.

Giving my afternoon tour, I explained the hard and deadly life the prisoners faced, ‘if the lack of food and water, the riots, the guards, or the exhausting labour didn’t kill you, disease would!’

‘Wouldn’t they get medicine?’ a boy spoke.

‘Oh, no. Medicine was very different in the eighteen hundreds and nobody cared about criminals,’ I replied, ‘now, let’s go and see the isolation cells.’

Turning, I heard the boy speaking in a low voice, ‘mummy, I don’t want to be a prisoner anymore. Can I be a firefighter instead?’

 

(Inspired by; https://crispinakemp.com/2020/02/12/crimsons-creative-challenge-66/ with thanks).

Wild Day #FridayFictioneers

Dog ownership demanded I faced all kinds of weather. Today, I really didn’t want to. I looked at my greyhound, Apollo, he too was watching the snow tumbling down and wind shake the wooden staircase and pine trees.

‘We’ve been out in worse,’ I spoke.

The snow was blinding and soon I lost sight of Apollo. I shouted him but the wind blocked me, I started a mad search but the snow was too bad.

With frozen tears on my face, I returned and found Apollo shivering by the front door.

‘Good dog! You found your way home!’ I cried and let us both safely inside.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2020/02/12/14-february-2020/ with thanks).

Valentine’s Snow Heart

winter-3087060_1920

Kyia came into the kitchen and saw a pile of snow shaped into a heart on the table.

‘Why is that there?’ she asked her boyfriend, Max.

He was sipping coffee and looking at his phone, seemingly not aware of the slowly melting snow next to him.

‘What’s where?’ Max asked, distracted.

‘The snow on the table,’ Kyia pointed out.

‘It’s Valentine’s day and I thought it would be a nice hiding place for your present.’

Confusion passed over Kyia’s face then she begin searching through the snow heart. Her fingers found something hard and she withdrew a sliver ring with a central diamond.

‘Will you marry me?’ Max asked.

Storm Ciara

storm-damage-1481036_1920

When the news said there was an amber weather warning, I knew that Ciara wasn’t going to be friendly. She was coming over from America with the full force of a winter storm. At least, the British weather wasn’t as bad as the USA.

Ciara woke me up on Sunday morning by driving hailstone on to my window. I heaved the winter duvet and my massive Great Dane, King, off me and looked out of the window. The wind was fifty to sixty miles per hour, everything was moving violently and the surrounding bare trees were really showing how strong the wind was. Rain thundered down and the wind whipped the water into a frenzy.

I got up and sorted for the day. My bachelor mind doing it’s normal voice off about how nice it was not to have a wife or kids being noisy but also how worrying it was not to have those things.

Letting King out into the garden, the wind blew ice into my face and I was grateful that within a minute King was back inside. I dried him off, wondering how he could be so wet!

King sulked off to his massive dog bed in the converted dinning room. Dispite him being a huge dog – he came up passed my hip and I was six foot two, he could easily rest his head on tables too – King hated the cold and wet weather.

Getting a large mug of coffee and some toast, I went to my study and began working on my different writing tasks. I had a novel to complete, creative writing lectures to plan, students’ essays to mark and journal articles to finish. It might have been a Sunday but writers and teachers never stop.

Storm Ciara erupted throughout the whole day. She hit against the windows desperate to get in. She threw out everything she had; wind, hail, snow, rain, thunder and lightening. I glanced up often from my work and watched the storm from the small window.

King joined me at some point, he put his dark grey head into my lap then curled up tight under the desk. When the thunder started, he yowled and only hugs and comforting words soothed him.

I tried to take him out at lunchtime but a quick trot to the park entrance at the end of my street was it. Storm Ciara was still bad in the afternoon and darkness came early. I took King out again and we embraced the gusty wind and drenching rain together. I tugged him along, trying to convince him that a longer walk was what we were going on.

The trees above swayed violently and the branches cracked. Deep, long stretching pools of water were either covering the grass or the pathways of the park. As we passed the children’s playground, a creeping feeling crawled along my skin. The swings, roundabout and the rocking animals were moving because of the wind but for some reason I thought of ghost children at play.

The wind was whistling through the climbing frame, slide and other things, making ghastly sounds. Rain was dripping off everything and it was all so eerie, almost abandoned looking.

We hurried home and once safe inside, I got use both into a hot shower. King sit, drinking the shower spray and I enjoyed the warmth spreading on my icy skin. After, I got the fire in the living room going and feed King. I just had some soup then we both sat by the fire, watching TV.

‘What is it, King?’ I asked as he raised his head and whined.

Then I heard it, the monstrous groaning and cracking of a tree. There was almighty snap, crunch of metal and shattering of glass. I felt a tremor running through the house and King threw back his head and howled.

I rushed to the window and saw a tree had come down across the street and was laying across a number of cars.

There were bits of tree and car scattered across the road. The wind was picking up the lighter things and blowing them away. Doors of the houses opposite opened and people stepped out. I couldn’t hear them but I could see the shock on their faces and in their body language.

King pushed me out of the way and looked out of the window too. We stayed there for awhile. Watching the crowds of neighbours gather and soon a fire engine arrived. No body had been hurt but some of the cars were write offs for sure.

‘There’s not much we can do,’ I said to King, ‘looks like everything’s under control. It’s snowing again. Let’s go back to the fire.’

Settling down again, King sprawled across the sofa and myself. His head and front legs on my lap, pinning me down. I felt safe like that, even though King was a rubbish guard dog. I guess just having a massive dog and his heavy weight on me was enough comfort as storm Ciara raged outside.

 

(Inspired by current events; https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2020/02/11/storm-ciara-commuters-warned-snow-ice-across-parts-britain/)

Choice #WritePhoto

I don’t know what had driven me outside in this weather. Maybe, the argument with my wife was to blame? Still, it was the choice I had made and now I was paying for it.

Laying on the hillside just above the small river, I tried to get a grip on things. Pain was shooting through my left leg in only the way a broken bone can do. Somehow I had slipped on the wet grass, tumbled down the slope and hit some rocks. My head hummed with confusion and the pain was also making it hard for me to think.

I took in some deep breaths and contracted on the flow of the water. The small river seemed so loud as it bumped and splashed against the moss covered rocks. It was higher then normal because the bad weather and the snow from the higher land.

A few minutes later, my head cleared and I got on to the emergency services. Search and Rescue were on their way. It took them over an hour and whilst I waited, I watched the river and the wind in the trees. I was cold and wet, though my waterproof and winter hiking clothes helped.

I thought about how things might have been different. What if I had died out here?

I phoned my wife and told her. She flew into a panic and it took me an age to calm her down.

‘I’m fine. Everything is going to be okay,’ I spoke, ‘I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it, you know that. I love you.’

Through the sobbing, I heard her reply, ‘I love you too.’

‘The rescue team is here now. I see the search dog!’ I cried out then added, ‘Darling, meet me at the hospital as soon as you can.’

‘Yes, yes,’ she burbled into the phone, ‘see you soon.’

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2020/02/06/thursday-photo-prompt-choice-writephoto/ with thanks.)

Learning to Knit

knitting-1430153_1920

Waking in my hospital bed, I came around to the sound of nurses’ voices and the good morning mutterings of the other patients. A TV with the news report brought me further awake and I reflected upon how the world sounded like it hadn’t changed much since yesterday but things for me had.

The keyhole operation had been a success and I should have an easy recover. I was grateful for that because if the doctor had had to open things up, it would have taken an age to heal. He had said I would be out of hospital in a few days then I was on home bed rest for a week. I didn’t mind that, there was plenty of stuff I could do at home but hospital was different.

I don’t know what it was but time seemed to run differently, like it was four hours behind everywhere else here, though when you looked at a clock time tricked you into seeing the correct time so you wouldn’t think any different about it. This was an odd theory of mine but it had helped distracted me for the previous two days.

A nurse appeared to check on me. She asked a bunch of questions which my tried and not all together brain struggled to answer. She looked at my stitches and spoke about having a shower but not getting my lower stomach wet which seemed impossible to me.

I was glad of the shower and change into comfy PJ’s instead of the starched hospital gowned. Once back in bed, breakfast came around and I had porridge with strawberry jam and sugar.

It was only after that I notice that my next door neighbour on the right had been changed. At some point since going in for surgery and sleeping through the night, Lily Dixon, a young woman with blonde hair who’s appendix had been removed had gone and an old woman had taken her place.

I felt a little sad about that because Lily had been a chatter box and it had been nice to listen to her taking about all kinds of things. Now, this new woman had white hair, a pale wrinkled face and was wearing a blue flower nightie. She looked to be in her seventies or eighties and she was busy knitting something.

‘Hello,’ I said, ‘you weren’t here yesterday.’

‘I came in the evening,’ she replied, ‘moved from another ward. They needed the bed up there. I should have been discharged but things are still not right.’

‘I was probably asleep. I’m Lauren Rhodes.’

‘Mary Brian,’ the woman spoke.

‘What are you making there?’

‘Some baby stuff for the premature unit on the other side of the hospital,’ Mary answered.

‘Wish I could do something like that. It would help to pass the time, it always seems to go so slowly in here,’ I sighed.

‘I’ve some spare needles and lots of wool,’ Mary spoke, ‘I can teach you. I have taught my own children and grandchildren. It’s easy once you get the hang of it.’

‘Okay, why not?’ I said.

Mary finished what she was doing, set her knitting aside and pulled a bag up onto her lap. She took two wooden needles and a soft ball of sky blue wool. She got out of her and bed moved her chair closer towards my bed.

‘Are you okay? Shall I get a nurse?’ I asked, worriedly.

‘I’m fine. Do me some good. Now take the needles,’ Mary responded and give me the thin wooden points.

She found the end of the wool and passed me that too. I liked the feel of the wool, it was soft but not fluffy.

Slowly, Mary instructed me on what to do. It was difficult to get the loops and the needles through them at first. I would also drop or just miss one, sometimes I knitted together or and added in a stitch. My first square looked like a mess of knots.

‘Maybe, I’m not ready,’ I said frustratedly.

‘It takes practise. We shall keep going after lunch.’

I had gotten a little bit further by the end of the day. Learning to knit had tried me further and so I slept well enough. In the morning, I was determined to keep trying. The knitting was a good focus for me and it helped to pass the time.

By that evening, my square looked more like it should and I was really pleased.

‘Keeping going,’ said Mary and I nodded.

The next morning, Mary was discharged and I felt miserable.

‘Here,’ I said, passing the needles and wool back to her as she packed her things up.

‘Oh. Why don’t you keep them, dear?’ Mary replied.

‘What? I can’t!’ I cried.

‘It’s fine. I have plenty,’ Mary said waving me away, ‘here have some more balls of wool too. I get them from the charity shop I volunteer at, though I have plenty at home,’ she laughed.

‘Thanks,’ I replied with a smile.

‘Oh and here, take my number so you can let me know how it goes.’

‘Of course!’

Mary left and for awhile I sat feeling deflated then I picked up the needles and started trying to knit again. It took me a good few days to get the knitting right but I found it a nice hobby when I was at home on bed rest.

There was a calmness to the running of the wool through your fingers and the clicking of the needles. I could watch TV and my hands would be busy which helped me not fret over my progress or my mistakes.

A week or so later, I phoned Mary and she was delighted to hear from me. We meet for a cup of tea and became best friends joined by knitting.

Playing In The Church Graveyard #CCC

Church bells rang to end Sunday service and the congregation came out. People stood talking and I bored as usual walked into the graveyard.

I adventured amongst the weeping trees and headstones, ignoring the ghosts I could see lingering, as a ten year old boy I had better things to do.

One old lady began shouting, ‘get out! You vandal! Stop disturbing me!’

‘I’m not doing anything!’ I yelled but she wouldn’t listen and carried on shouting.

I tried play but she flew and pulled me about like a whirlwind. Deciding it was best to leave, I ran back to my parents.

 

(Inspired by; https://crispinakemp.com/2020/02/05/crimsons-creative-challenge-65/ with thanks).