Iniquitous #AtozChallenge

Iniquitous – grossly unfair and morally wrong.

It’s always so unfair and wrong. He’s got more then me or she’s broken it. He’s annoying me then she bit me! He started, she started, he did it, she did it!

Always fighting, like they are punishing you for having them both. Would it have been different if they were both girls or both boys? Doubtful. Siblings always fight. You did so with your own.

‘It’s not fair!’ he cries, ‘I hate her!’

‘I hate you more!’ she screams back.

You roll your eyes and silently beg for peace. Just five minutes like Mrs Elephant wanted.

‘What happened?’ you ask thinking you can play judge, jury and court all in one.

They spill the story of how one was doing something wrong but the other was sure it was right and unfair it was for the interruption to happen. How this or that might be broke, why it’s not his or her fault. He should be punished, no, she should be punished.

It’s the same old story, repeat time after time. What’s the point in trying to keep putting the bridge out of fire if it finds a way to carry on burning down?

‘Leave each other alone,’ you rule, ‘you go back to whatever it was and you come do something with me.’

Tongues stick out, there are pouts and tears. She stamps are foot and crosses her arms and declares, ‘its not fair! you love him more then me.’

Not that cliche again!

You say, ‘that’s not true. Do you want to do some baking?’

Another war stopped, another battle half won. You just hope this is a phrase they are going through. How can they love each other one moment and hate each other so much the next? It’s a bafflement never to be solved but then that’s siblings for you.

(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)

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Heliolatry #AtoZChallenge

Heliolatry – sun worshipper

The sun has always been worshipped. In 2020, we just do it differently. No standing stones, no rituals or prayers. We just lay down silently as if asleep.

(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)

Gaberlunzie #AtoZChallenge

Gaberlunzie – a beggar

He was there everyday on the streets with his old dog. He would hold out a hat or a cup and press his head to the floor. He was ashamed. He didn’t want to beg, he didn’t want to be homeless but somehow he had ended up trying to survive like this.

I finally stopped, one April afternoon and decided as if an angel had called upon me to do this good deed. I touched his shoulder softly and met the deep sad eyes of his dog’s.

‘Come with me,’ I said gently, ‘let me help you.’

(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)

Frankenfood #AtoZChallenge

Frankenfood – genetically modified food

It was the middle of April and we were in lockdown because of the virus. My three children; Britney aged twelve, Molly aged eight, Charlie aged four and my husband, James, had cabin fever, they were running wild because of the lack of structure and normality.

I was tired of trying to plan things for them to do and teaching my children school was harder then I had thought. My husband was working from home but there always seemed less and less work for him to do. I had worked from home since miscarrying our fourth child. I wrote blogs, shorts stories, articles and other things like that.

After going through breakfast, I pushed the kids outside to play and with my husband heading off to the study to do his job, I went upstairs to dress. I put on clothes without thinking, going for comfort as no one would see me. There was no reason for going outside today.

Brushing my hair as I stood by the mirror, I realised I had put a Halloween dress on. Orange pumpkins, carved with cute faces grinned back at me from the mirror. Laughing, I went to change but then an idea come to me…. Shrugging and thinking why not, I went downstairs and called the children together.

‘It’s Halloween today!’ I declared.

‘No, it’s not!’ Britney, snapped, ‘that’s in October and we are in April.’

‘But we are going to pretend,’ I said, ‘you all know how much mummy loves Halloween.’

‘Yes! Can we get lots of sweets?’ Charlie, shouted.

‘Sure, but first we have to get everything ready. Who wants to help with all the food?’

‘Can we bake monster cookies?’ Molly, cried.

‘I like the spider cakes best!’ Briney cut in.

‘I want sweets!’ Charlie screamed.

‘We can do anything you want,’ I said.

As one the children gave me an ear deafening, ‘Yes!’ and rushed inside.

Making a lot of noise, we got recipe books out and everything we needed. I put a Halloween CD on and we sang along to some of the songs. Soon the kitchen was a right mess but there was the wonderful smell of sweet baking things; cakes, biscuits, cookies and other things.

At lunchtime, my husband was at first grumpy with all of this nonsense. I sent him into the attic to get the decorations down and start helping the children to put them up.

‘This is silly,’ James muttered to me as he had his lunch.

‘I know, but I’m so tired of entertaining them. It won’t do any harm.’

He mumbled something I missed.

‘Here, have a cookie,’ I said sweetly, ‘you never complain about my Halloween cooking.’

‘Because it’s far too good,’ James answered then wolfed the cookie down.

Laughing, I put the rest of the cookies on a wire rack to cool and put the next lot in the oven.

‘You sure you got enough supplies in to do this?’ James asked.

I nodded, ”I’ve been getting extra things in and make sure there was baking stuff for the kids to do.’

‘Mum! Mum!’ Molly screamed as she ran into the kitchen, ‘Charlie threw a spider at me!’

I rolled my eyes, ‘okay, okay.’

Juggling baking and decorations as well as a few arguments, we managed to get everything sorted. Then whilst the children decorated some of the biscuits, I ponder what to make for dinner.

‘What do you fancy?’ I asked.

A jumble of answers came back then Charlie started shouting, ‘Frankenfoods!’

‘What is that?’ I asked him.

‘Dad told us it’s food that’s not real,’ Molly answered for Charlie.

‘No,’ Britney cut in, ‘its bits of different food all mashed together to make a new food.’

‘Interesting…We could do that though…’ I said thoughtfully.

My mind whirling, I got raiding the kitchen once more then happily went back to the table were the children sat and placed down my findings.

‘Hot dogs?’ Britney questioned as she picked up the jar.

‘No, Frankenstein’s fingers,’ I said in a creepy voice and wiggled my own fingers in her face.

Britney made a disgusted sound and slide the jar away.

‘I want one!’ Charlie cried.

‘And we can make some other things too….pizza skulls?’

‘OMG, Yes! Molly yelled, ‘I love them!’

‘Right. Britney? What about you?’ I asked.

She thought then replied, ‘burgers, chips and salad.’

‘Cow pats with lave and witches’ hair,’ I translated into Halloween food, ‘that’s your dad’s favorite too. Who wants to help?’

They all put there hands in the air and shouted ‘me!’ at the same time.

The kitchen was once again turned into a mess but finally it was time to decorate the table and put all the food out so everyone could helped themselves.

Sitting on the sofa, balancing a plate of food, I watched the childrens’ Halloween movie alongside everyone else and thought that today hadn’t been bad at all.

(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)

Deracinate #AtoZChallenge (Part 2)

Deracinate – to tear something up by the roots

(Please note there is some adult content in this story)

Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I got up and went outside to the well. There was no one there but signs that people had been gathering water earlier. I pulled the handle around and drew up the rope which the bucket was attached too.

Birds were singing in the trees, animals were being noisy – demanding food-  there was no wind and the sun was all ready warming. I could smell the start of peat fires as water was heated and food cooked in the little huts.

I pulled the bucket full of water out of the well and began washing my hands and face. Then I did my feet, arms and legs, following the washing pattern I had done all my life. Normally, I would have been in the Temple bathhouse, naked with my dorm Sisters. There would have been hot water, steam and fragrant soaps.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had had a full bath or washed my hair. I wasn’t ashamed of my body but I was aware of the trouble being naked could cause. Sighing, I finished off washing and poured the water into one of the buckets that was used for washing clothes and other things, when anybody could be bothered to do so.

Back in my hut there was a warm pot of tea, a jug of ale and a bowl of thin porridge for me to have. The old woman who had woke me was serving the breakfast out. There was a low mutter of talking and I caught a few words of that but it was mostly complaints about things and a challenge for who could pick the most apples today.

Out in the orchard, it didn’t look like we had made much progress yesterday. There were many trees looking weighed down with apples. Wood ladders were laid against the tree trunks with baskets and carts drawn by old horses were under the trees. I stood with everyone else and listened to the orders given then it was skirts tied up and climbing the ladder for me once more.

My legs and arms were still aching after yesterday but I tried to ignore that and get on with bringing the apples down once more. Twisting them off, I threw the apples down to the catchers below – who were old people and children- and they put the fruit into the baskets. The large men came and put the baskets onto the carts and left an empty basket behind.

The sun grew hotter throughout the day, it made me sleepy and desperate for a cold bath. Like yesterday, we were allow to stop a few times for drink and food but it didn’t help that much. The ale tasted strange in my mouth even though I should have been use to it by now. Nobody drank much water but I would have preferred it. The food was always bread and cheese, sometimes it was fresh other times it wasn’t.

I stole two apples. I had climbed higher into the tree, balancing on the thinner branches to reach the apples at the top. Everyone’s attention was drawn to a woman with child who had fainted. It was easy for me to slip the apples into the pockets of my underskirt and take a rest on a thicker branch. From here, I could see a lot of people gathered around the woman. She was placed on a cart and taken away with some women and perhaps her husband following.

‘Come on, get back to work!’ someone yelled and everyone walked back to their choice tree.

I threw down the last of the apples and came down the ladder. The rest of the day drew itself out as if it didn’t want to end. The smell of the apples and trees clogged my other senses. I felt I could just curl up on a branch and sleep forever. Even the children who seemed to have boundless energy were tried and some had fallen sleep at the bases of trees.

Drinking some ale, I heard my stomach growl in hunger. Soon it would be time to eat. I looked up at the sky and saw that the sun was in it’s setting position but it had no intention of going down for another two or three hours. The ale tasted too malty and slightly gritty, I drank it all, too thirsty to stop.

Petting the old shire horse, who’s cart I had been leaning against, I helped pick up any apples on the ground as the pickers decided to shake the trees out. Some of these apples could be added to the collection and others would go to the animals.

I stumbled over something and decided I’d had enough of these shoes. I took them off and in my bare feet carried on working. The earth and grass were cool, reminding me of times I had run around the Temple and it’s gardens. And I felt the call. The earth whispering to me asking what I wished of it.

I had to ignore it and get back to picking up apples. I put them into the ‘basket’ I had created with my dress. It was an easier way. Then I tipped them into the wicker baskets and went back together more.

Finally, the sun was setting. The bright blue sky turning paler and darker as the sun dipped. We collected the last of the day’s apples and followed the horses and carts back. People began going their own ways. I went to the well and joined the queue for water. It as too long and I decided to go to the stream instead.

Other people were heading there too but I could walk along to find a patch of my own. There wasn’t a lot of shade out here, there was just fields. I passed some cows who were getting ready for evening milking. The sheep hadn’t been brought down from the hills yet but there were some goats milling around.

At the stream, I walked by people who were drinking or collecting or taking clothes off for a wash. I saw some naked children splashing each other. An old woman with her skirts all bunched up as she dipped her feet and legs in. A few men just in their breaches pouring water from jugs over their heads and three young women watching them and giggling.

I found a quiet spot, far down from everyone else and also beside a small tree. I took all my clothes off. Wishing I had clean ones to put on. Beside from a few undergarments, I had nothing else to wear. In the Temple, I had worn white dress with sliver thread edges to show I was a novice. I could wear a clean one everyday if I had wanted.

I took the cloth strip from my head and pulled my hair down. Leaving my clothes by the tree, I stepped carefully into the stream. It was blissfully cold. Stones felt rough under the feet, so I moved a few of them then crouched down in the little exposed area of stream bed I had made. I cupped the water and splashed it all over me. The cold of it prickled my skin but it was too nice to stop.

I tried to imagine myself in a Temple bath, cooling down after a long day. The chatter of my Sister around me. Everything was cool and clean. There would be robes to wrap in, clean clothes and lots of food to eat this evening. Autumn time had also been my favourite season of year because of that.

‘What we got ‘ere then?’

The man’s voice broke through my thoughts, I stilled and looked up at him. He was grinning, showing missing teeth, rough black stub covered the lower half of his face. His brown eyes were shinning as if he was delighted by the sight before him. He was grubby, thin and a youngish look about him, maybe in his twenties?

‘You’re the mute girl, ain’t you?’

I shook my head and wonder if I did speak would he leave me alone? Panic swelled in my stomach. I knew I should go, put my clothes on and run but wouldn’t that expose me more and invite him to give chase? Not moving might be better but I really wasn’t sure….Maybe, if I had kept some clothes on it would have a made a difference.

‘Yes, you are,’ the man said in a low voice, ‘no one has hair like your’s….’

I looked at my hair, the cherry red colour had darkened with the water and felt heavier, the long wet strands were giving me some cover. I brought more of it around to hide my chest. The man noticed the movement and one of his eyebrows raised.

‘I think you need some company,’ he said and began taking his clothes off.

I shook my head and panic made me flee. I stood, water dripping off me and rushed to my clothes pile. Without throwing anything on, I ran naked into the opposite field. He chased after me, not shouting – I guess so he didn’t draw attention. I didn’t look back, I concentrated on finding some cover but of course there was none to be had.

I dropped a shoe and tried to pick it up. A heavy weight flew into the back of me and sent me tumbling to the ground.

‘Oh, yes! That’s how I like my women!’ the man spoke, his voice full of lust.

I twisted around and saw him dropping his breaches down and his manhood on display.

I couldn’t let this happen! The Sisters prepared us well for sex and bearing children but they taught us it was an act of our faith. Our bodies were vessels for the next Sisters and we shouldn’t just lay with any man. There were rites to be done…

I scrambled upwards but the man threw himself down on top of me and grappled me to the ground. I tasted dirt and blood on my lips. His breath was harsh in my ears and I could feel the hardness of him pushing against my rear end. He tried to part my legs with his own but I strained against him.

My hands clenched around the dry soil and before I could think, instinct took over. I told the earth to blind him as I threw the soil into his face. He cried out and moved his hands off me to try and get his eyes clean. I wiggled out from under him and sat facing him, my chest heaving with deep breaths.

The man swore at me, calling me nasty names as he rubbed his eyes and blinked. His eyes had turned white.

‘I can’t see!’ he screamed.

I plunged my hands deep in the soil and felt the power growing within. The ground shook, the grass shaking wildly then the earth began splitting, a hole appearing under the man and because he was distracted by being blind, he fell into the hole. He screamed but it was cut off by the ground coming back together and the soil closing around him.

‘I didn’t mean it,’ I whispered looking at the spot the the man had disappeared from.

Grass brushed against my naked skin, the soil was cold underneath me. Licking my lips and tasted blood and dirt on them still. I turned away, saw my clothes and quickly got dressed. I ran back to the stream, washing the soil away then rushed to my hidey hole.

There I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and curled up. The Sisters taught us to control our powers. To not use them without thinking nor in anger. I had broken that lesson. What was I going to do?

Tears washed down my face, thoughts flooded my mind and I couldn’t calm down. All I could see was the earth swallowing that man!

Darkness pressed against my makeshift shelter. I looked out from a hole and steadied myself. No one knew what had happened and if anybody asked me, I was a mute who couldn’t utter a word. The man was gone so he couldn’t say anything against me. I could carry on as normal. That would be the best thing and no one would ever know.

I got up and went to the well, I sorted myself out, tied my wet hair back up and under the cloth, brushed grass from my clothes and put on my shoes. I went back to my hut and found a little stew and tea left for me to have.

Some people were smoking in chairs beside the fire and others had gone to bed all ready. No one looked or spoke to me. I tried to act as normal, tipping the stew into my mouth and swallowing down the cooling tea. I got into bed and pulled the woollen blanket over my head.

I lay breathing deeply, my eyes squeezed shut and trying to blank my mind. I had made a terrible, terrible mistake but I would learn from it and never again would I act like that.

I was alone now. I had to control my gift. I had to stay hidden.

 

(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)

Deracinate #AtoZChallenge (Part 1)

Deracinate – to tear something up by the roots

All stories start with something and this story starts with an apple. It was a normal apple, bright red and ripe for picking. I twisted it off the tree and with a quick look around, I slipped it into a pocket in my underskirt. It was the first apple I had ever picked and the first thing I had ever stolen.

I was wearing clothes that were not my own; an old, patched up blue dress with layers of grey skirts and stays for my growing woman’s shape. On my feet were falling apart brown leather shoes, worn down from all the walking and work. My hair, dirty and unwashed for days like the rest of me was a cherry red colour which shone gold in the full sun or moonlight. It was tied in a bun under a strip of cloth that covered my head.

I carried on picking apples all day. Stopping only a few times to sip ale and nibble mouldy bread. The other workers didn’t speak to me, energy was wasted by talking and there was too much to do. Also, they all thought I was a mute. The apples in their wicker baskets were loaded onto a cart and taken into a stable to be sorted. Some apples were to be sold at the markets and others made into cider.

The sun set and some of us retreated to little huts the farmer had given us for the harvest season. The rest of the workers went to houses or other places they had in the surrounding villages. We ate a weak stew then in a haze of peat smoke, pipe tobacco and sleepiness, I slipped outside.

A few feet away was my hidey hole. It was a little nook in a tumbled down animal shelter. I had made a seat out of some of the wood and placed straw on the floor. There was a holder for a small candle and a worn blanket. I wrapped myself up and lit a candle. I listened but there was only the sound of the wind and animals.

I took the stolen apple out from my pocket. I had eaten apples of course but not for a while now. Not since I had left my Sisters. I rubbed the waxy surface of the apple then bought it to my nose and breathed in deeply of the fresh, sweet and fruity scent. I bit into the apple, the flesh and juice were too sugary and crisp. It all returned me to my past.

The memory of my Sisters made tears prick my eyes. I had been born into them and grew up not knowing anything else. I had learnt many languages, to read and write them. I had learnt potion making of all kinds, casting, calling, spells both defensive and inflicting, herbs by all their names and their many usages, prayers and songs, baking and mending, romance and the weakness of men and monsters, plus so much more.

We lived in large groups in many cities, towns and villages. We had Temples which some of us also lived in though most preferred houses with their families and or other Sisters. My home was a white Temple in a fine old city. We had a patch of land that was a small farm where we grew fruits, vegetables, herbs and plants. There were also animals; chickens, cows, rabbits, bees, dogs, cats, ravens and owls.

We had been in harmony with all peoples and nature. We had been looked upon for help in a whole range of problems; sickness, death, childbirth, crop and animal failures, wars and feuds, blessings, future readings, advice, teachings and lots more. Then something had happened four years ago, some turning of the tide that caused the Sisters downfall.

War had knocked upon us. The people rose against us declaring us bad and forgetting all we had done of them. The Sisters fought back but the enemies were numerous, over powering and driven by unquenchable rage. We were torn apart. Our homes and Temples burnt with some of us still inside, the rest put to the blade or their deaths on show. We were hunted down like scared deer, not understanding why we had been turned upon.

I had been lucky, being only a girl of twelve I had escaped with some others into the crypts below. There our Fallen Sisters lay at their never ending rests. Their bodies wrapped in white sheets and tied with red ribbons. They were placed on stone shelves on top of each other with carved wooden symbols of our faith; bell, book, candle, crested moon, bunches of herbs, cats, ravens and owls.

In the middle of the crypts were the highly decorated marble sarcophagi some of which had effigies on them and there were also statues of the High and Supreme Priestess or Sorceresses. Candles, incense, fresh flowers and prayers were constantly supplied into the crypts and long Fallen In Memoria ceremonies took place day and night down there.

When we escaped, we were meant to stay together but in the darkness and vastness of the jungle we lost each other. I had wanted to go back, I had tried hard to but somehow I had never been able to find my home again. Perhaps it had been a spell cast by the Sorceresses to keep all the novice witches safe? I would never known.

Needing shelter, food and places to hide, I found work on farms. Hard work but at least no one saw me as anything other then an orphan girl on the run. I was too traumatised to speak for a long time and the label of ‘mute’ stuck to me but I found it easy to wear this mask. I didn’t have to answer any questions and say anything which might reveal or create suspicion to what I was.

Novice Sisters didn’t get the tattoos, clothes and jewellery of the faith until they became of age at sixteen then they were called Practitioners. Once everyone could see what you were it was too late to hide. That’s why only the girls had escaped and hardly hunting though I bet innocent girls had been put to fire or to water or just slain by swords.

I had the last bite of the apple and sat with the core in my hand. I thought about practising some magic on it, I still tried often to do things I had been taught. The risk of being caught stopped me. It was all a part of me though, I couldn’t forget or ever stop it no matter what I did. Magic and faith flowed through me like blood.

I transferred the light of the candle to another I had brought. I could have cast my own light but that was asking for trouble. Blowing out the first candle, I made the long way to the pig pens. There was no moon or stars in the sky, clouds were banking up there but I knew it wasn’t going to rain tomorrow. It was going to be another hot and dry autumn day.

A fat, pink pig happily took the apple core from me then snuffled back to sleep. I was half tempted to crawl inside his wooden house within him but instead I made my way back to my own bed.

I slipped through the door and into my cot. Pulling the harsh wool blanket over me, I tried to sleep. Around me, in other cots or chairs were ten or so people all fast sleep. There was snoring and mumbling, sounds of breathing and tossing, it all reminded me of the dorm room I had slept in at the Temple.

The fire was low, only a whisper of heat left within it. I could have brought it back to life and made it everlasting with no need for fuel. I could bend the flames to my will, ask them to burn this hut down, the farm and the apple trees, the people too if I wanted.

I could command the wind to fan the fire more, to blow a gale, destroy everything in its path. I could call water from the well, from the stream and the sky to cover everything and wash it all away. The earth would answer me if I whispered my wants to it, the ground could shake or spilt up and swallow everything.

Plants would be my allies, I could encourage them to grow fast, to wrap around and suffocate everything. I could speak to animals, bargaining with them to do tasks; to bring me food, to help me kill someone, to be my eyes and ears in another place.

There had been other Novice Sisters in my classes who could do things with energy from furniture and other things, pull out memories from minds, whisper thoughts into your head, make objects move and more. We each had our own gifts and talents, our favourite things to work with. Some found the powers easier to work with, others hard and some not at all.

I fell asleep and dreamed about one of those girls I knew, her name had been Aenwyn. For years, she didn’t show any magic abilities no matter what she did. Some of the other girls laughed at Aenwyn but we were friends and one day we were talking as we picked herbs. The smell of those things was heady, mixed in with strong wild garlic. Bees were buzzing in the air gathering honey for their hives. It was a hot, dry summer day.

‘Elenora, what will become of me?’ Aenwyn asked me.

‘Why Aenwyn,’ I answered, ‘you’ll get the best job of all! You’ll become a Matron. You’ll get to look after the Sisters, their daughters, you’ll work in the gardens, with the animals and in the kitchens too. You like baking bread and tending the rabbits, don’t you?’

Aenwyn nodded, ‘but I’d rather be like you, Elenora! You’ll become a druidess.’

‘Maybe, but I’d rather be an elementalist,’ I said, ‘imagine what you can do if you can bend elements to your wants?’

Aenwyn shook her head, ‘it is too great a power.’

I laughed and picked a blood red beetle off one of the baby leaves of sage. I shut my eyes in concentration and called upon the air to fly the beetle away. My request was granted and the beetled was lifted away and over the walls.

Aenwyn opened her mouth but her words were drowned out by the Temple bells, it was time for afternoon prayers. Then we would read the books of our faith before washing and changing to go for evening meal. Afterwards, we would finish our daily tasks, put the animals to bed then change and wash again for the nighttime chants and prayers then it would bedtime as the sunset.

We had lived by the callings of the bells, the tasks set to us by Matron Sisters, Tutor Sisters and Dorm Sisters. Our lives were structured, we knew what to do within each hour by heart. We knew our duty, our destinies, the powers within us until everything was uprooted by the war against us.

Someone was shaking me awake. The faint ringing of bells from my past in my ears. Waking, I saw an old woman, half her wrinkled brown face was covered by long, ragged, white hair, her simple peasant dress too loose around her wasting body.

The sun had rose and brought another day of apple picking with it.

To Be Continued…

(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)

Cereology #AtoZChallenge

Cereology – the study of investigation of crop circles

It was definitely aliens this time, I could swear to it. The crop circle was huge and spread across two fields of corn, most of which had been flattened. The plants hadn’t just been laid flat though, there were shapes within the main ones. The corn lay in almost a spiral pattern, some going one way then the next patch going the opposite.

I glanced back at the farmer who had called me into inspect this weirdness. He was stood against the open gate to the field, scratching his head under his flat cap whilst his three boarder collie dogs paced around him, eager to get back to work.

There was no way he could have done this. It was too big, too complex and why would he want to ruin a crop that was a month away from being harvested? No, it didn’t make sense for him to have done this….

I looked at my clipboard again and made some more notes. I took some more photos then went over to the farmer. He was petting one of the dogs and talking to her.

‘Do you have a ladder or something I can get a higher photo with? I’d love to try and see this thing fully,’ I asked.

The farmer mumbled something in his thick Yorkshire accent which I could hardly understand and walked away. I hoped he was going to get a ladder and hadn’t decided I was crazy. Though, he like everyone else, except those of The Fellowship of the Outer Finders Orbit (FUFO) thought I was mad, so what did it matter?

Minutes passed, I re-read my notes, made a few more, walked around bit and then the farmer and another man appeared with the ladder. The dogs were running around and barking but once they realised they were back at a sheep free field again, they calmed down.

The farmer spoke and I guess he was introducing me to his son and also where were they to put the ladder?

I pointed to the corner of the field and we went over.

Once up the ladder, I could see the crop circle in all its glory. God it was beautiful! There was circles of all kinds joining together to make what had to be the base of a space craft. I took a few photos then had to change the film in the camera.

‘Let’s move the ladder over there,’ I said.

For maybe a hour or so, we moved the ladder around and I climbed up and took photos of the different view. Finally, we returned to the gate and the ladder was laid against a hedge.

‘What’s tha think?’ the farmer asked.

‘You sure you didn’t hear or see anything?’ I asked.

‘Nowt.’

‘They must have been cloaked,’ I muttered to myself, ‘I wonder what they wanted….Any cattle or other animals gone missing?’

‘Not sure. Sheep ‘re on fell. Don’t count ’em.’

I frowned and took that to mean he didn’t know. Was there any point in asking if he could go and check? I shook my head.

‘Tha done?’

‘Yes. I think so. If anything else happens, call me again.’

‘Theerz nowt s’queer as folk,’ the son said in a low voice.

I frowned but before I could ask what he meant, the farmer spoke, ‘tek n’gorm.’

God, I should have brought a translator!

‘Tha want brew?’ the farmer asked.

‘Er no, I’m driving. Thanks anyway. I should be going actually. It was nice to meet you. Thanks,’ I said and shook both their hands, ‘goodbye.’

‘Aye, lad sithee.’

I nodded and left the two men talking to each other. I guessed they were discussing me, probably insulting me but I had no idea. I walked back to my car, parked almost in a ditch in the courtyard of the farm.

Once back in my car, I felt strangely safer as if I had just escaped from an alien encounter.

I sipped some warm water and took a some deep breaths of hot, stale air. I started the car and put down the window. I glanced at the collection of papers and camera films I had dumped on the passenger seat.

‘Unbelievable evidence though, wait to the FUFO sees this!’ I spoke.

(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com)

Afreet #DearDiary #AtoZChallenge

Afreet – a powerful jinn or demon from Arabian and Muslim mythology

Dear Diary,

My eBay parcel has arrived! A whole two months after ordering and having the delivery date continuously set back. I wasn’t expecting to never receive it, thinking I’d fallen into a scam again but no! I opened the parcel and inside was the box! And it’s a perfect addition to my collection.

It’s so pretty, all cherry wood with intricate inlaid design of flowers, leaves and swirls. It’s bigger then both my hands put together, so a medium size then. It’s hard to tell the age but it must be old because it’s smooth to the touch and looks quite worn down. There’s damage to one corner, it’s cracked and chipped but it’s at the back so can be hidden.

I went to open it but couldn’t not! There was a tiny keyhole lock and of course, no key to be found! Disappointed but determined, I got some tools out and after a few minutes I had broken the lock.

The hinges were old too but silent as I opened the box. Inside, was all wood and a darker colour from the outside which showed how time had aged things.

I smiled, thankful it had arrived safely but then a sort of thick, dark red mist rose up from the box! There was a strong gust of air, I dropped the thing and tumbled backwards. I hit my head on the edge of the sofa and as I sat up rubbing the growing bruise, I saw a form taking place above the coffee table.

I was too shocked to cry out or anything, I just carried on watching as before me appeared a huge red demon ? His massive black curly horns bashed into the ceiling, He had no hair, his eyes with gold coloured and the size of dinner plates. His body was all rippling with muscles and they were so pronounced I could count them all clearly! His hands and fingers were long and claw like. From his hips downwards was a tornado of red smoke which twisted down to a sharp point.

He was heavily decorated with gold jewelry; chains as thick as his arms were around his neck and waist, huge hoop earrings hung from dropped lops and touched his shoulders. Around his wrists and arms were so many bracelets and cuffs it was hard to see his red skin underneath! On his claws were many rings, some were solid but others had gem and precious stones inlaid.

An almighty laugh echoed out of him which shook my house like an earthquake. He seemed very pleased about something. He curled his hands up and rose them to the ceiling as he threw his head back, horns scraping the ceiling and raining down bits of plaster.

I wet myself with fear. I hate to admitment that, Diary but it’s true. I thought I had released the Devil himself! I hide behind the sofa, shaking and with my hands over my ears because his laughter was deafening and sounded like that of an insane man. There was no time to think or do anything. Not that I could have done if I was capable.

The laughter faded then the sofa was tossed aside as if it was little more then child’s rag doll. The demon looked me down, puffing out mega lung fulls of breath.

‘Don’t hurt me! I’m sorry!’ I cried.

‘Bow to me mortal!’ the demon’s voice boomed.

I nodded and pressed my head to the carpet. What else was I meant to do?

‘I am an Afreet, a Jinn and you have released me after a hundred years of being stuck in that box.’

‘A genie? Like in a super being who grants wishes?’ I questioned to myself.

‘No. I am a demon of the underworld,’ replied the Afreet, ‘and now I am free once more to reap chaos on the world!’

He laughed that horrible victorious laugh once more then explode out of living room. My house crumpled like a bomb had hit it. I dashed out of the hole the Afreet had made and into the street. I tripped over something and lay dazed in the middle of the road.

My house was obliterated and nothing more then a pile of bricks and broken glass. The firebridge said it must have been a gas leak or an unexploded World War 2 bomb that had been missed and just triggered itself.

Recovering in hospital and now resting in this hotel room, I decided to write this true account of what happened. Where the Afreet is now I have no idea but I know he was real and soon we will feel the chaos.

(Inspired by; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/2020/04/atozchallenge-2020-anamnesis.html?fbclid=IwAR1f82CLEmAg_AoRywI2FIKGN-OBFnOj7yuGd_JVWiayKcigQmzAADB2L0E thanks.

It’s that time of year again! It’s the April A-Z challenge. I’m sticking with my normal theme of discovering words. I hope you enjoy reading all my stories this month and like me, learn some new words along the way).

April Announcement; A To Z Challenge 2019

Hi everyone, I just wanted to let you know that I’m taking part in the A-Z Challenge again this year. Sorry, my for the late notice but I’m currently ill and struggling with lots of things, including mental health problems.

As of yet, I’ve not put anything together for the challenge but my plan will be like that of the last few years of taking part. I’ll search out words of different kinds that I’ve never heard of before and use them to base a story around. Some stories might also include inspiration from other imagine or writing prompts which I shall note.

The link to the challenge is here; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/ there’s still time to sign up and get involved.

Thank you for all the support and inspiration I receive from all you comments and likes. They do help to keep me going when I’m struggling to write. Here’s to many more short stories!

A-Z Challenge 2018

Hi everyone,

It’s almost that time of year again for the A-Z blogging challenge! I’ve been thinking over the last few weeks that I need to keep an eye out for it and start planning what I’m going to do this year. Well, today is sign up and theme reveal day! I’ve just done that so here’s the link if you want to check it out; http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com

I’ve decided that due to have so much fun with it last year that once again I’m going to put together a list of words and their meanings that are new to me and I feel inspired by. I’ll then center a short story around each of the words and post ever day as I would normally do. These words can come from anywhere and I’ll be using Pinterest and the ‘word’ board I’ve on there to help me gather and select the words.

Also, like last year, some of the short stories will have a part 2 on a Sundays which are none writing days for the challenge but I’ll still be going!

Here’s a link to my previous years undertaking of the challenge; https://thestoryfiles.wordpress.com/category/a-z-challenge/

I’m looking forward to seeing what short stories I can create and also how other bloggers are taking part.

Thanks for all your support and happen readings!

Hayley.