
I could see more then normal. Some said, I had an eye for detail, I called it I wrong wiring in my brain. When Father built me and brought my organs back to life, I wasn’t whole. And now, I see the truths and lies of the world.
Inspired by;
I could see more then normal. Some said, I had an eye for detail, I called it I wrong wiring in my brain. When Father built me and brought my organs back to life, I wasn’t whole. And now, I see the truths and lies of the world.
Inspired by;
What I happened? I only remember one thing;
Nancy running along the path in the woods. We were chasing each other under the shade of the trees with a grey sky peeking through the leaves. Nancy was laughing and tossing her head back often to see how close I was gaining on her.
My shirt, she had begged to have because it was cold and she was just wearing a vest top, was sliding off her shoulders and billowing out like a cape as she ran. I think my shirt give her wings because I couldn’t catch her.
Nancy flew away.
I heard the snapping of branches, the tumbling of soil and rocks. The ground left my feet and air rushed around me but unlike Nancy I couldn’t fly.
Was that Nancy screaming and crying as the world spun like a top or were they my screams and cries?
The ground was hard underneath me, I was covered in soil and small stones. It took me a few minutes to release I was in a quay crater. Despite the broken bones, bruises and pain, I looked for Nancy but she wasn’t with me.
What happened to Nancy? Do you know?
My shirt really give her wings, didn’t it?
(Inspired by https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/07/09/tale-weaver-283-shirt-july-9th/ with thanks).
All summer events were cancelled and tickets had been refunded. Donna couldn’t believe it. She had been saving so hard to buy a ticket and now because of the virus, the rock festival had decided cancel.
Sadness filled her. She wouldn’t be able to sing her favourite songs alongside the bands. That feeling of being a part of something big and the rock music shaking her whole body wouldn’t happen. Donna only felt truly alive when surrounded by loud noise, the cancer had taken everything else.
There was nothing for it, she would have to create her own rock music festival in the living room.
(Inspired by; https://lindaghill.com/2020/07/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-11-2020/ with thanks).
Once I walked alone but now I walk with you.
(Inspired by; https://lindaghill.com/2020/06/10/one-liner-wednesday-june-10th-2020-moooommm/ with thanks).
Do you hear the people sing? from Les Miserables strangely came to my mind as we watched from the balcony as below the people gathered. It seemed the whole country was flocking to the capital, their voices a mass of shouting words which made it hard to pick out what they were saying.
Drums and other instruments echoed along said the peoples’ voices, blocking out my chance to hear what was being said. There was a marching beat going on with the drums, though a few sounded out of the beat and perhaps a trumpet? or something else forcing it’s notes through.
Handmade banners and signs waved in the wind, the writing upon them moving as if the letters were alive. I picked out the words ‘rights’ and ‘for’ and ‘stand’ and ‘truth’. The normal things that protesters wrote about.
‘What are they doing, daddy?’ my five year old daughter, Betty asked.
‘They are unhappy about something and want people to know about it,’ I said.
I picked her up and held her tightly in my arms, so she could get a better view of events below.
The police were starting to gather now. Their uniforms and see-through shields marking them out from everyone else. For the moment they seemed not to be doing much other then preparing. If fighting broke out, I’d take my daughter inside and put a movie on really loudly.
‘But why, daddy?’ Betty asked.
‘Same reason when you get unhappy and want mummy and I to know about it, ‘ I replied simply.
‘Or Freddie?’
I glanced across at my wife and our three month old son. My wife had a worried look on her face and was clutching the baby, who was wrapped in a blanket, to her shoulder. She hadn’t said anything since we had come out to look at what was going on. I knew scenes like this reminded her of the unrest in her home country.
‘Let’s go inside,’ I said gently.
‘But I want to see!’ Betty cried.
‘Maybe, another day,’ I answered and hustled my family safely inside.
(Inspired by; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/06/05/first-line-friday-june-5th-2020/ with thanks).
Zebrinny – offspring of a male horse and female zebra
The zoo was quiet in the rain. I guess most people don’t like walking around and staring at wet animals that seem to have gloomy looks. I had promised Adya though and she wouldn’t hear about not going.
It was strange to think that in this moment I was tiring of having a five year old daughter but school was out, mum was working away and I was working at home, trying to juggle all the roles and feeling too tried to care anymore.
At least at the zoo there was things to distract Adya and walking in the rain was calming me. Without the crowds of people, I felt more safe to let her roam and do what she liked as long as it wasn’t trying to get into the animal enclosures.
‘Can we get ice cream, daddy?’ she asked as we went to see the Big Cats.
‘We just had lunch,’ I answered back.
‘Later then.’
‘Okay, later. Can you see the leopard?’
Adya pressed herself to the marked glass pane and looked around the forest scene.
I shook the umbrellas out and read the sign about the leopard.
‘I can’t see him,’ Adya whined and stuck her tongue out at her reflection.
I came over looked up, searching the thick tree branches. The leopard wasn’t to be seen.
‘Tigers!’ Adya cried and dashed over.
I trailed after her as we went from each big cat until we came outside again. The rain was really coming down.
‘Maybe we should go home?’ I asked timidly.
‘No,’ Adya shouted and stamped her foot in a puddle, splashing us both.
‘Okay,’ I uttered and huddled under my umbrella more.
People thinned out as we carried on. I saw groups of families gathered in the cafes or shops or under makeshift shelters. Adya wouldn’t hear about stopping unless that was for ice cream.
I got her a small cone and watched her get chocolate ice cream all over her face. We sat inside a cafe before heading off again. There were monkeys to see, birds to admire and an ant eater to watch sleeping. Still the rain came down and water dripped off and soaked everything. To make matters worse most of the animals were in hiding and Adya was upset she couldn’t see them all.
‘But why daddy?’ she cried.
‘Because they come from hotter places and it’s cold out. They like to stay warm.’
‘Why do they have to stay inside?’ Adya pouted.
‘Because it’s wet and they don’t like it,’ I sighed.
‘I like the rain! And I like puddles!’ Adya shouted and began stomping about in a large puddle as only a crazy five year old can.
‘There’s a cafe and shop, let’s go get a drink and I’ll buy you a teddy.’
I got a coffee and Adya a juice. I was so numb that I couldn’t feel my fingers or my feet. I didn’t take off my coat because I’d lose heat but also there was nothing worse then putting a wet coat back on.
Adya swinging her legs, sipped her apple juice and looked at the map. It was damp, full of folding lines and starting to look tatty. She named the animals we had seen; sea-lions, camels, kangaroos, red pandas etc and the animals we were to visit next; warthogs, giraffes, wolves, deer and zebra.
I half listened to her, enjoying the spreading warmth of the coffee. There were a few people at some of the other tables; a young couple on a date, a mother and two older children, an old couple and a member of staff on a break.
‘What teddy do you want, Adya?’ I asked, nodding towards the little jungle themed shop.
‘I don’t want one for there. I want one from the big shop at the front,’ Adya declared.
‘Guess it wouldn’t get wet being carried around that way,’ I mused.
‘And we have to get mummy something,’ Adya added.
‘And me….?’ I asked like a child.
Adya frowned, her small brow creasing then nodded and said, ‘yes, you can get something too, daddy.’
We finished our drinks and went back out into the rain. Adya splashed in the puddles, pointed at animals and seemed never to stop. I plodded along with water in my boots, feeling tried, craving a hot bath and a beer.
We made it around the rest of the animals and finally ended up at the last set which was deer, antelope and zebra. Most of the animals were sheltering in the low wooden stables with straw covered floors.
I picked Adya up to see better but these animals were not as exciting as some of the others. Grateful to see her bored, we hurried along and got to the zebra.
‘Why is that one a different colour, daddy?’
I looked where Adya was pointing and saw a young zebra, a year or so old and it was brown and less stripy then the others. It’s mane and tail were dark brown and longer then the other zebra.
‘Maybe, because it’s a baby?’ I spoke, ‘let’s see if there’s a sign….’
I moved down, carrying Adya on my hip. She was getting to large to carried. We came across the information point and after a scan, I spotted the odd zebra.
‘His name is Oz and his mother was a zebra but his dad was a horse, their foals are called zebrinny. He was born in twenty-nineteen. He likes carrots- a lot!’
Adya giggled and waved at the zebra, who ignored her and carried on eating.
‘That’s why he’s different then,’ I explained, ‘he’s part horse, that’s why he’s brown.’
Adya give a satisfactory nod and our day at the zoo was almost over. We walked back and went to the shop. I was worried it would be busy and noisy with children but it was nearly empty like the rest of the place had been.
Adya got a basket, leaving me to carry her pink umbrella along aside my black one. I followed close behind her, watching as she looked at the things. We went to the stuffed animals, there was a huge selection to pick from.
‘What are going to get Adya?’ I asked.
‘I want a bra-nnie! Like Oz,’ she cried.
‘Oh….’ I looked on the shelves, thinking there was no chance they’d have such a rare creature, ‘what about a tiger instead? They’re your favorite.’
She shook her head and carried on looking.
A member of staff came by and I broke with the man protectal and asked, ‘excuse me do you have a zebrinny?’
‘A what?’ the teenage girl asked me.
‘It’s a half horse, half zebra.’
She shook her head and walked away.
‘They don’t have any, sweetie,’ I said to Adya.
My daughter looked at me like she was about to explode.
‘We can just get a zebra…’
‘No!’ Adya screamed, ‘I want a zeb-brinie! And I won’t go home without one!’
I looked around desperately hoping one would appear out of thin air.
Adya crossed her arms over her chest, tucked her chin down and looked like she was holding her breath. Her little cheeks were red and her eyes all ready wet with tears. She was on the edge of a tantum.
I looked for another member of staff and spotted an older man stacking books. I went over and tried him, perhaps we could come to some other arrangement instead? Get a zebra and a horse and have someone sew them together in the back room?
‘Excuse me, do you have any zebrinny?’ I asked.
The man glanced up from the books and looked at me.
‘I’m cold, wet and tried,’ I explained, ‘my daughter wants one. I’m guessing you don’t have any, so can we sort something out for her and then we can go home?’
‘There’s one of the shelf behind you,’ the man said.
I spun so fast I almost tumbled over. I ran to the spot and hanked the half horse half zebra teddy off the shelf and looked at it like it was a miracle in my hands.
‘That one, daddy!’ Adya cried and rushed over to me, ‘he looks like Oz!’
I give her the toy and she hugged the zebrinny tightly.
Chuckling from behind made me turn and I looked at the male staff member, ‘happy to help!’ he called.
‘Thank you,’ I replied back.
We bought a few other things, took them to the till then left. In the car, I turned up the heating, took off my soaked through coat and drove us home.
Adya fell asleep hugging the zebrinny.
(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)
This story completes April 2020’s A-Z Challenge. It’s been fun and hard writing at times. I hope you have enjoyed reading these stories. Tomorrow, I’ll be kicking off a new month and I hope to see you there! Hayley.
Wayzgoose – an annual summer party held by a printing house for all its employees.
It was too warm and the cocktails had gone to my head all ready. I dipped my feet into the cool outdoor swimming pool of the hotel and watched everyone else. Everyone from work I knew was here, it was a work do after all! and there were people from other departments I had never seen before.
Everyone from the printing house seemed to be here; the big cheeses, the receptions and the kids who worked in the post room. Everyone was drinking or eating, talking and enjoying themselves.
It was good to be not at work in this four star hotel for a weekend party. It was the annual tradition of the business. A reward for everyone and a celebration of last year’s best selling books and online articles.
I hated it. I loathed shifting through the paper and online submissions. I grimaced at simple spelling mistakes and rolled my eyes at grammar errors. For years, I had read other peoples’ writings whilst mine had slipped away like shells out to sea.
‘So, I heard you’d handed in your notice….’
I looked up at the sound of the voice, frowning and scrunching my face up because the sun was too bright. It was Naz though, no doubt about it.
He sat down next to me and dipped his bare feet into the water. He was wet from a swim and there was a towel around his shoulders.
‘This isn’t a pool party,’ I joked.
Naz laughed and shook his wet dark hair, ‘everyone’s too drunk to care!’
I pressed my lips together and kicked my feet under the water. He was right, everyone no one cared and the drinks were flowing too much. Not even the Christmas party ended up like this.
‘So, is it true? You are leaving me?’ Naz uttered.
‘Yes. How did you find out?’ I asked.
Naz tapped his nose and laughed.
‘I leave at the end of next month.’
‘So you got on that journalism course then?’
‘University at the age of thirty-one here I come!’ I cried and swung my arms up.
A few people glanced at me then got back on with their conversations or nibbles.
‘Go get ’em girl,’ Naz said, ‘fancy a drink to celebrate?’
‘No, I’ve had too much.’
‘Come on!’ Naz half shouted and got up splashing me with pool water.
I watched him go over to the bar and a part of me wanted to get up and go, make Naz come back with two drinks and discovery himself alone. I couldn’t though, we had known each other too long.
He came back soon enough with tall glasses and something pink and fizz inside. I sipped it through a paper straw and found it fruity and sweet. We didn’t talk for a few minutes, just sat and watched a group of men try and push each other in the pool. Someone give at last and splashed in, followed by another man he had snatched the arm of as he fell.
Laughter and shouting rose up as people swamped the pool. The men got up and everyone distributed lured by the music coming from the marque on the lawn.
‘Party’s kicking off now,’ Naz pointed out.
I rubbed my head, feeling the growth of a headache. I should get something to eat and then maybe slip off back to my room. I wasn’t in the mood for dancing, having my bum and boobs grabbed at. Also, I didn’t want to end up in someone else’s bed tonight like a lot of these people would do.
I turned to Naz and saw him waving at someone, ‘Cherry in accounting, Let’s go say hi.’
‘You go. I’ll see you at the buffet table,’ I replied.
Naz nodded and hurried off.
I got my wrinkled feet out of the pool, back into my red flat shoes that matched my red cocktail dress and went to get something to eat.
There wasn’t a queue though there was enough people getting food to bump elbows with. Most people had gone off dancing. I got a paper plate and selected a few things, not really fussy over the trays of food.
I found a table outside and ate slowly, enjoying the setting sun and the lights coming on in the gardens. Noise echoed around me, the booming of the disco music, the shouting of the people. A woman was screaming somewhere- I guessed in delight as she was chased by a suitor? Or maybe a murderer? I didn’t care.
I finished eating and went back to the buffet table. I gathered some sandwiches, fruit, mini blueberry muffins and a few other things to eat in my room. Then acting like I was looking for somewhere to eat or perhaps the friends I had left a few minutes ago, I sneaked back inside the hotel.
It was a long way to my room and I was grateful not to meet anyone. Either the whole hotel had been booked for the company or the other guests were sticking in their bedrooms. I took the elevator and walked along the corridors until I made to my door.
Once in, I put the food on the desk next to the gathering of bottled water and fizzy drinks I had brought with me. A few packets of sweets and chocolates were there too. That had been my plan for night; far from the party and by myself.
I sat on the bed and turned the TV on. I nibbled on a sandwich and sipped some water.
What a way to spend my last work’s summer party.
(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)
Vidiot – an habitual watcher of TV or videotapes
He wouldn’t get with the times. He wouldn’t change. He carried on as he always had done. Outside, he went with his heavy bag, he found places to set up his camera and he recorded what he found. he changed the batteries and tapes as needed.
He watched people going by, listened to their conversations, he filmed animals, houses, trees, trains, planes whatever he fancied that day. He kept history in the making and felt pleased to do so. He recorded newspapers and magazines, TV and movies.
In the winter or when the other was bad, he stayed at home and clipped together his own ‘movies’. It was easy he found to mix up his video recordings with other things and he enjoyed doing something more creative.
Video though was old tech. Digital had moved in and come to stay. He refused to convert, to be moved by this new mystery. No, the old ways were the best. Old things lasted longer and they always became in fashion again. He just had to wait.
He carried on recording, getting in trouble with people and police. Teenagers spit at him, woman slapped him and children ran into him. The old people who had grown up with him and whom he now was one of, said he was harmless. He had always been there with his camera and stuff, filming to preserve history.
Once people had enjoyed being recorded and had come to him to ask him to film them. It had been like a novelty, a bit of fun but now there were places were he dare not go.
Schools were on his black list as well as through windows and direct shots at people. Playgrounds were no go and he could only film in parks if he was far away from people and focused on animals. He thought it was shame to be missing bits of the world but what could he do?
He was tried of angry people and of being told off. He just wanted to be left alone to do his job in peace. His only escape was inside his house, behind curtain windows and locked doors. There he could create a world he wanted and watch over what he had recorded.
He found a truth in the flickering imagines on the TV. Friends in his stacks of videos. Comfort in the normal sounds of the world and knowledge he was doing a good job.
This was his museum, his art left to the world.
(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)
Vidiot – an habitual watcher of TV or videotapes
He liked to record things and watch them at night. It didn’t really matter what he set his camera upon; birds in the garden, cars travelling on the motorway, spying on his neighbours.
All day, he would go out and set his camera up in different places to record the goings on. People asked him what he was doing but he would yell at them to mind their own business then film them as they walked away. Sometime names like peeping-tom, pervert and creep. He didn’t care, he just ignored them or moved on.
When the police came, he would apologies, saw he was out bird watching or trainspotting. He didn’t know he’d left the camera on, etc. Sometimes they demanded the recording tape and he had no choice but to give it up. He’d do anything just to be left alone.
When he had recorded enough, he went home and transferred the recordings to tape and then watched it like a film. Often he fell asleep watching and woke up to the fuzz of a blank TV screen.
He would rewound the tape then write a label and stick it on. He had a store of tapes hidden in cupboards that were almost full. When he felt awake or had a short time outside, he would re watched one or two of these videos.
They were time capsules and he was there maker, keeping and watcher.
He couldn’t remember the single moment he had decided upon this task but a few events had come together. There had been the accidentally filming of the girl next door getting undress by her bedroom window when they had been teenagers. The car crash a few days later that he had capture and the police had used in their investigation. The rock concert a few weeks later and a month later, a cat killing a bird.
There had been something in all of these that had made him want to carry on capturing the world and preserving it.
He had stock piled, videos, cameras and equipment. When he saw something he wanted he brought it and stored it until needed. He created sets and got animals and people to come onto them without them knowing. He built a studio out of his house. He hung up blow up pictures of his favourite movie stills and gathered books on how to improve.
This was his life. He lived behind the lens of a camera, capturing all of the world like he was God watching over his creation. He was powerful, in control and happy.
Then DVDs’ and downloads arrived.
To Be Continued…
(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)
Uroboros – a circular symbol depicting a snake or dragon swallowing its tail, intended as an emblem of wholeness or infinity.
The strange bracelet flashed in the sunlight behind the charity shop’s window display. It was a worn bronze coloured snake with a detailed pattern on the scales eating it’s own tail. There was a little prize tag attached but it was turned over to tactically hide the price.
I went in and asked to see the snake bracelet. The old woman nodded and moved like molasses down a wall. Forever later, the bracelet was in my hand then on my wrist. I looked at the price tag and paid a crisp five pound note to the woman.
With the weight against my skin, I went back to gathering my shopping from the high street. There was a new supermarket at the end of the road but I loathed all the noise and people. Plus, I knew each owner of the shops I visited and enjoyed my weekly chats with them.
Back home, I had gotten use to the bracelet so I partly forgot about it. The rest of my day was normal gardening and selling a few of my plants and ornaments. I give my birds that lived in large cages outside more food and water, sometimes I sold some of them but it was hard to part with them.
In the evening glow, I had a light dinner then read until it grew cold. Back inside and getting ready for bed, I felt a heat on my wrist. I looked and saw the bronze snake bracelet. The black eye was staring up at me and I felt as if I was being judged. I took the thing off and left it by the bathroom sink.
That night I dreamt of snakes. They were curling around and around, trying to catch their tails. When their tails got into their mouths they began eating themselves.
I awoke in a warm sweat, slightly panicked in the darkness. I turned on the light, got up and went to have a drink of water. I looked on the edge of the sink but the bracelet wasn’t there. I looked on the floor and wandered around the bathroom and then I spotted the snake on my wrist.
How had that happened?
I tried to take the bracelet off again but couldn’t. The thing was stuck fast to my skin. I got soap and hot water and tried to get the snake off that way. But the old trick didn’t work. Drying my hands, I want back to bed and decided not to think about it.
The dreams didn’t stop and came to me night after night. The snakes chased their tails and once caught ate themselves. The bracelet stayed stuck to my wrist and wouldn’t budge no matter what I did.
(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)
Fighting Bowel Diseases One Day At A Time
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