Keeping Going #WeeklyWritingPrompt

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Rory rolled over in bed and looked through the half opened curtains. The sky was trying to turn into twilight outside the windows but it was hard to noticed because the grey clouds blocked everything out. He sighed and wondered what was become of summer.

Listening, Rory could hear a few birds twittering in the distance but that faded as the rain started to drip down. He carried on watching as at first it drizzled then poured. The urge not to get up took him. His phone was only a roll to the other side of the bed away and he had his manager on speed dial.

He needed the money so badly though and he could’t offered to get fired from another job. Getting up, he went to turn on the bedroom light but as his fingers touched the switched, he remember the fuse had blown last night. He turned on the lamp instead and got ready.

Rory dressed in old jeans, his work uniform’s dark blue polar top, the matching fleece jacket and black trainers. He went into the bathroom, ran the cold water tap, which squealed in protested at being turned and scrubbed his face. He brushed his teeth then tried to flatten down his dark brown longish hair. He caught his reflection in the mirror and wished he hadn’t. He looked weeks starved with a growing brown beard and dead grey eyes.

He turned away, the tap dripping behind him and the plumbing rattling. He grabbed his bag from the bedroom and went he went down the creaking old stairs, wondering if any of his six housemates were around. The living room, dinning room and kitchen were empty. He reasoned they were still out at work or sleeping or just not being in this dumpy ex-student house.

He scrapped together some kind of meal to eat later;  three crackers, a bag of plain crisps, four digestive biscuits and an energy drink. He peered into the rusty bread bin, knowing nothing was going to be there but still hoping. There was a fresh loaf of bread, open and with two slices missing!

Rory grabbed it out, grateful someone had brought it then made a cheese sandwich and two slices of toast. Before anyone could appear to tell him off, Rory left the house via the back door.

He hurried to the bus stop, wolfing down the toast. When he got there, he tried to find a dry spot which was hard because the teenagers had broken the shelter again and there was glass everywhere. The bus was early and half empty which meant Rory could huddle in the back seat away from everyone else.

He watched the rain washing down the emergency door window and tried not to think about the next numbing twelve hours. This job he had gotten through a friend of a friend’s girlfriend was only part-time; Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights in a warehouse.

Rory’s role was a picker which meant he went around with huge lists of orders and he had to take the items off the shelves to return them to the packers, who put everything in boxes with labels and shipped them off to the waiting vans for delivery the next morning.

He rang the bus’s bell to get off a few stops out of town then walked into the industrial estate. Warehouse, business buildings and car parks of all size grew around him. Large security fences around each one give the impress of a cluster of different islands each with their own secrets. Rory walked to one on the far edge, down a single road and pavement that didn’t want to end.

Entering the employees door, he clocked in then went to the bathrooms. The place was always clean and smelling of lemon. The hot water stayed hot, the hand dryer and fresh paper towels a blessing. Rory dried off and fixed himself up as best he could. He didn’t like to look scruffy even though it couldn’t be helped in his current circumstances and this job sort of give the impression that it was okay to look a little rough.

Rory got to work. He took some order forms from the stack, grabbed a huge cart and headed off down the aisle of shelving units. He liked at first to imagine that he was buying stuff for himself; a new pair of football shoes, a game console controller, a funny picture book. Some items he would wondered what he’d actually do with; a make up bag, a unicorn stuff toy, fake designer perfume. Other items, he dreamed about owning but then he started to be become numb to it.

He’d look at the list, see what item was next and collect it with no thought. When the cart was full, Rory would deliver it and the completed order forms to the packers. He would leave them to sort the items into the correct boxes and send them down the conveyor belts where more packers would place them into vans.

There was little else to his job but there was nothing he could do. Rory felt trapped, like a mouse in a cage who wanted out real bad. He was nothing more then a zombie here even though he had the brains for a better job, perhaps in an office? Nobody wanted a school drop out with a criminal record for stealing and vandalism though. Like his parents hadn’t wanted him when he had been born.

He got on with his working night then caught the first bus home in the early hours of the morning. It had stopped raining and the sky was a watery blue with a touch of yellow. Rory went up the front steps, down the side of the four floored house which once had been a pleasant family home but was now a demolition waiting to happen and to the back door.

He let himself in and rummaged around the kitchen. Someone had been to the food bank because there was a blue plastic crate on the floor filled with carry bags stuffed full. Rory had a look and found some tinned stuff; soup, beans, fish, veg and meat. There was packets of noodles, biscuits, crackers, sweets, rice and fruit. Also, washing up liquid, toilet rolls, soap bars and a surface cleaner.

Rory grabbed a tin of soup, a banana and a packet of sweets. He found a bowl and heated the soup up. Whilst he waited, he looked at the bags and though he knew he shouldn’t, for the food was meant for everyone to share, he took out a packet of noddles, a packet of rice and another tin of soup. He hide them in his bag to take upstairs with him later.

He felt better once he had eaten something warm and had some sweets. Almost, like normal again. He talked with the housemates that were in for awhile, watched some TV with them then Rory went to bed.

He undressed to his boxers, put t-shirt on then quietly took the food he had taken out of his bag. He slide a small plastic box out from underneath his bed and put the things in there. Hopefully, the mice wouldn’t get them.

Rory got into bed, feeling waves of tiredness pulling him into sleep. He felt torn about what to do tomorrow. Could he really stand another shift at the warehouse? He argued in his head about choices and ideas but he was too sleepy to really care.

Finally, Rory told himself that if he wanted to have a roof over his head and food in his belly then he would go to work tomorrow. And even though the little hope he had left was dimming everyday, he still clung to it in the hope that one day his life would change for the better.

(Inspired by; https://secretkeeper.net/2018/06/18/weekly-writing-prompt-146/ with thanks).

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One With Peace #WritePhoto

George didn’t know why it had taken him this long to find what he was looking for. He guessed it was because he had been looking too hard and thus not noticed it before. Sitting down on the bench he looked passed the two beech trees that created a nice frame and watched the sun began to set.

Everything felt so peaceful in this lonely corner of the park. The birds were singing evening song at their loudest and best, the hum of people and cars was hardly a distant sound and George felt the happiest he had done in months.

He took a few deep breaths, relaxed and saw the blue sky and white clouds being washed by colours of pink, yellow, orange and a dash of purple. George couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the sunset but that and everything else seemed not to matter right now. He was in this moment and that was all that was important.

The old peoples’ home where he lived was far from his mind and so was the bed he had just spend weeks being ill in. All the smells he had grown to know were go and replaced with fresh air, the blooming of flowers, cut grass and earth.

He knew if he just shut his eyes, he could pretend to be young again; a boy out playing after school, a teenager enjoying a break from exams, a young man wooing a lady with a evening stroll. It was all there in his head, that past life of his, that seemed so far away and almost like it belonged to someone else.

George didn’t shut his eyes though, he kept them fixed to the sky, wanting no other thoughts or feelings right now expect for peace. He had been in pain – emotionally and physically – for so long and he just wanted to be free of all that. He needed to move on now and live the final chapter of his life.

The warmth that had been surrounding him dipped away, leaving George feeling cooler. Above the sun was fast setting, the colours becoming darker and the sky turning grey. The tree tops turned black and a near by lamp flickered on.

It was time to go back, even though he didn’t feel like it. If he could stay, he’d sat through watching the night but he was too old now to cope with the creeping chill of the air. The idea of a hot cup of tea and a cosy bed was calling to his achy body.

Unsteadily, George got up and walked slowly away, leaving the sunset behind him.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/06/14/thursday-photo-prompt-beginnings-writephoto/ with thanks).

Mission #3LineTales

three line tales, week 124: two colourful doors that lead to ...

The doors didn’t seem real but she knew they were, for they had house numbers on them and real steps leading up to them, though no else seemed to see them.

She knew that what was behind the doors though were not normal houses but passageways to two different countries not marked on any maps and she had visited both countries now often enough.

Today however, was different, she had a mission to try and complete; the uniting of the two places through a royal marriage and that if everything went perfectly, would stop the thousand year of war between the two countries.

 

(Inspired by https://only100words.xyz/2018/06/14/three-line-tales-week-124/ with thanks).

Big Cave #Pegman

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Rusty knew the cave was here, the map told him so. Avoiding the red rocks that littered the landscape, he weaved his way on. Brown-red peaks rose to the blue jean washed sky and the sun beat down like a determined enemy.

He felt the sand shift under him. Rusty tried to go back but the sand movement dragged him down. He landed heavily, drifting in and out, luckily, he was only bruised and in shock when he came fully to.

He looked up and saw the entrance to the cave ahead of him. He had found it after all.

(Inspired by; https://whatpegmansaw.com/2018/06/09/the-big-cave-palo-duro-state-park-texas/ with thanks).

 

Reflection #3LineTales

three line tales, week 123: a strange reflection in a puddle

I glanced down at the puddle I had been about to step into and saw the reflections of a plane above and two skyscrapers.

I raised my head and looked about confused because there were no tower blocks beside or in front of me, just some shabby looking houses.

Perhaps it was one of those city street 3D paintings and not a real puddle but as I stepped over it, I felt something pull me back and before I knew it I had fallen into another world were everything was so very different from the one I’d left.

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2018/06/07/three-line-tales-week-123/ with thanks).

The Right Tool #TaleWeaver

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‘This is the only thing I can find long enough, Bob!’ Shane called over the edge of the cliff.

Bob looked up, his grip slipping on the root he was clinging on to and saw Shame lowing down a saw, wooden handle first.

Bob had no choice but to reach for it.

(Inspired by; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/06/07/tale-weaver-174-making-sense-of-nonsense/ with thanks).

Postcard #46 #3LineTales

three line tales, week 122: a canal, boats and colourful houses

Saluti from sunny Italy or not as it’s raining for the first time since we’ve arrived, though  I don’t mind as it takes off some of the heat.

It’s really nice and so calming, next to the narrow canals and boats, which has been great for my stress, though I can do without the singing that the boat driver sometimes break out into!

We made the right choice moving here, though I knew it still pains you, but I do hope you’ll visit sometime and perhaps you’ll fall in love with this country as we have done.

Ciao!

(Inspired by https://only100words.xyz/2018/05/31/three-line-tales-week-122/ with thanks).

Conflagration #WritePhoto

The sky was the colour of fire; red and orange flames with grey smoke which blocked out what should have been a pretty blue afternoon. Below was the dark green mix of nature that made up the countryside raising around me.

I had stopped on the little road in the seemingly middle of nowhere, at first believing the sun was setting. Then I had double checked the time and saw it was a little after four PM. The wind carried the scent of smoke to me and my brain connected the dots.

I got back in my unmarked car, knowing it was too late all ready but continuing to drive all the same. Soft classical music whispered from the radio but it did little to calm down the spikes of tension I was now feeling. I thought about trying to trick my mind into thinking it wasn’t a fire, maybe the summer sun that normally set around eight or nine had decided to have a very early night today? I couldn’t live with that denial.

The road weaved like all country tracks did, following the flow of the land like a river would do. A few miles later, I passed a sign; Lachandra Manor, private house, no entry. Tall trees blocked my view for awhile then a towering black gates with stone pillars emerged. The same sign hung below one of the pillar tops on which sat a stone lion with a single paw resting on a ball, facing it’s companion on the other pillar.

The gates were open and I drove through. Had they been open on my previous visits? I couldn’t remember expect for the first two times when they had been closed. I had had to get out of my car and open them myself. Thinking about that give me something to do as I drove along the long straight driveway.

Towering trees lined up either side of me like giant guards silently judging me. I knew that behind them were farming fields and woodland. They also blocked the view to the house but I knew it was actually the road that caused the manor to appear and disappear. The road dipped unknowingly and at first you didn’t feel it but then you saw the road rising ahead of you and you realised the slope.

My car handled it well enough and after the climb of the hill, another set of gates and the stone monster archway came into view. Behind that, the fake castle gatehouse stood looming and beyond it Lachandra Manor was heavily a blaze with fire.

A chill went up my back and there was no point in trying to focus on anything else. I carried on driving and saw the second gates where closed. I flung open my car door, yanked the hand brake on and got out. The gate wasn’t locked and I easily swung them open. The smell of smoke was thicker here and I thought I head the distant screams of sirens.

Getting back in my car, I drove through and up to the fake gatehouse. I stopped and parked a meter or so away from the looming stone archway. Opening the door this time, I could smell the smoke right under my nose and also hear distance voices and the roaring of the fire.

I hurried through the gatehouse and found chaos on the other side. A huge black horse was rearing up and a small boy on the ground was trying to control the beast by loose reins. Two teenage maids were off to the other side, standing and screaming, their clothes soot stained and faces flushed. Male servants were dashing about with water and sand buckets, shouting at each other. Thick smoke billowed all around, the sounds of crackling and snapping echoing loudly. And the heat….it was as hot as I imagined the surface of the sun to be.

I grabbed the maids, they resisted at first but when they saw who I was, they let me shove them under the gatehouse. Next, I grabbed the boy who refused to let go of the horse but his hands were sweaty, so I was able to tug the reins out easily enough and take them. I half carried the boy and led the horse to the gatehouse. Once there, the black beast shot off down the driveway and the boy give chase after it.

‘The Lady is still inside!’ one of the maids shouted and pointed upwards, behind me.

I turned and saw through one of the broken windows, a woman dressed in blue. Some of the men were trying to save her. I knew it was too late and their efforts in vein, just as it was to put out the raging fire. The woman disappeared and flames licked at the window. Wood popped and hissed, blackening under the heat and crumbling away.

‘Do something, Detective!’ the same maid cried.

But what could I do? It was all my fault anyway. I had solved the case and been on my way to arrest her for the murder of her husband and son. She would have been found guilty and hanged. Lady Ellis had known it last time we had met. She didn’t want to die like that so had chosen this instead.

I looked up at Lachandra Manor engulfed in fire and knew that nothing would be saved.   

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/05/31/thursday-photo-prompt-conflagration-writephoto with thanks).

The Hole #FridayFictioneers

The hole kept filling with water and Farmer Brown had had enough. He threw the spade away and climbed out.

‘I just don’t understand it!’he shouted.

Neighbour, Farmer Turner, stared over the fence and said, ‘it’s a natural spring. Never gonna stop flowin’.’

Farmer Brown stormed away and told his wife. She sent away some of the water to be tested.

Months later, the results came back; high in minerals.

‘This is our fortune!’ Farmer Brown’s wife cried, ‘bottled drinking water!’

And years later, they retired early and deeply wealthy, leaving their mineral water bottling company to their children.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/05/30/8-june-2018/ with thanks).

 

Dear Diary #46

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Dear Diary,

It’s been really sunny and warm these last four days and today it looks depressing. The sky is all grey and rainy, it still feels warm but more of a lurk bath water feel then the fresh hot water yesterday felt like. It’s hard to tell if it’s raining or not right now because the window is water marked and it’s more like fine drizzle when it does fall.

I did think about going out and doing some stuff, though I don’t have anything actual to do. So, I tided the house and missed the kids. I hope the weather in Skegness is better then it is here. School holidays really throw me off! I should have gone with them, taking up my parents offer and had a week enjoying myself.

But I wanted the space and time away from them all. I wanted to go on a few dates, hang out with some old friends, do ‘me’ time and just think back to being younger and not having any worries. Somehow though, I’ve done it all in four days and though it’s been nice, it’s not made me think any differently about my life. Expect, for the fact I never thought I was going to be a twenty-five year old, widowed mum with twins boys.

There’s still time isn’t there? It’s still not to late to drive to Skegness, it’s only an hour and a half away. And then I can have a few days away, perhaps the sea air will do me some good. It’ll be a nice surprise for the twins.

I’m going to get packing!