Gig #100WW

 

The music was too loud, Mia only knew that because she could feel the vibrations under her feet coming from the huge speakers on the stage. The crowd around her must almost be loud, their voices screaming and shouting trying to be heard above the rock band.

Mia didn’t mind being jostled by the crowd, she was just apart of the sea of faces. No one but her best friend who was dancing beside her, knew of her deafness. Here in the crush, Mia was just another fan and she could pretend to be normal once again.

 

(Inspired by; https://bikurgurl.com/2019/08/14/100-word-wednesday-week-133/ with thanks).

 

Dear Diary, 2019

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Dear Diary,

I looked around the small kitchen, surprised at the mess a small New Year’s Eve party of people could make. There were abandoned plastic cups and glasses lying about almost the reminds of plastic plates of food.

The lingering of smell of burnt sausage rolls clung in the air. I went across and opened the window. It was almost lunchtime and the dapple of sunlight had cleared the touch of frost that had appeared around 2 or 3 AM. I touched my head, still pounding with a migraine and breathed the chilly air in.

The will to start tidying up was strong but I didn’t think my body would let me. I opened the cupboard, dug around until I found the last clean cup at the back and I got some cold water from the tap. I had all ready taken some pain killers and it was too soon to take anymore. A little food might help but I couldn’t even think about that now. I finished the water, got some more and went back up to bed.

There I snuggled back down, sipping the water and waiting to feel better. My thoughts were fuzzy at first but then I started to recall bits of the party.

Someone, probably, Annie’s boyfriend, which was just a normal thing for him, had brought a blow up sex doll and the men had all had a great time messing around with that and being rather crude. I at last had, had enough.

I took the safety pin out of the hem of my nineties themed mini dress and popped the doll and whilst Emily distracted them all by showing off her huge boobs, which was just typical of her to do something like that, especially after a few drinks and a little nudge from me.

‘Lookie here boys! Check out these real puppies!’ she had shouted then pulled the neon pink tube top she was wearing up.

Heads had turned, voices shouted in joy. I had dumped the doll back on the sofa and sneaked off.

I smiled and reflected how good that had been.

The idea of a nineties themed party hadn’t been mine but Linda’s who was still celebrating her thirtieth birthday which had been two days previously. Right now, she would be waiting for plane to take her to New York. I wish I was going on holiday! I could barely afford my rent right now though and was out of my head with trying to find a new housemate or two.

I so don’t want to think about that right now, so back to the party and what else had happened?

More people had arrived then planned, friends bring friends and people who said they weren’t coming but then did anyway! I had made sure to ask everyone to bring drinks and food with them, so we had more then enough of that.

My few drinks before everyone arrived kicked in and I shared a few cocktails with my girls. Then I served up the food and was happy to watch everyone tuck in. It was all shop brought stuff, I’d had no time to make anything but no one seemed to care.

Then there was dancing and talking and meeting people and just fun moments. Some had knocked over the Christmas tree, someone else had almost flood the bathroom by blocking the sink and letting the tap run. I think at one point someone had come in carrying a cat they had run over which actually turned out to be someone’s fluffy hat!

Getting drunk and dancing to nineties classic songs like we were teenagers again. We had been singing so loud that a few dogs had started barking their heads off! Then some sensible, probably, geeky Nicky, had turned the music off and told us the party was over.

I had felt super hungry and decided to see what food was left. I found some sausage rolls and put them in the oven. Then people had been leaving, taxis had been coming and going, everyone was hugging and kissing me, then Sally had tripped and hurt her ankle. Ice was needed then her husband said he would take her to hospital as we didn’t know if she had broken it or not. She was making enough noise for it to seem so!

Then Nicky came rushing in, ‘I think something is burning in the kitchen!’

I had spring up and rushed in to find Linda opening the oven and pulling out a tray with black stuff on it.

‘I forgot those!’ I cried.

We had laughed and Linda had thrown them outside.

I don’t remember coming to bed, but I must have done around 3 or 4 AM.

It had been a good party and a great way to start the New Year. Now, my migraine has cleared I should go and tidied up.

The Loneliest Day

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The phone rang, Jen tutted and abandoned the cake batter she had been mixing to answer it. It was probably a cold caller and she should just let the answer machine get it but she had finally got month old baby Louis down for his afternoon nap and didn’t want anything disturbing him.

‘Hello?’ Jen said into the phone.

‘Hi, it’s only me,’ her husband, Mike spoke, ‘I tried your mobile. I thought you might be a sleep.’

‘No,’ Jen replied with a sign, ‘I was in the kitchen.’

‘Okay. I just wanted to let you know I’m not sure what time I’ll be home,’ Mike explained, ‘there’s been a full office computer crash. Some idiot downloaded a virus yesterday and it’s super bad. I’m not letting anyone from the IT department leave till we’ve fixed it.’

‘I see,’ Jen uttered.

‘I’ll get something to eat on the way home. Don’t wait up for me, you still need to rest as much as possible.’

Jen nodded.

‘How is Louis?’ Mike asked.

‘Good. He’s sleeping now and he drink a full bottle before.’

‘Super! I got to go. Got the big boss at my throat. See you later, Honey.’

‘Bye,’ Jen said as the ring tone beeped in her ear.

She hung the phone up then stared at it. Why did things like that had to happened? Jen hugged herself and tried not to let the silence of the house get to her. Feeling a slight chill, she moved back into the warmth of the kitchen.

There in the bright lights, surround by cooking equipment and ingredients she could pretend that everything was normal again. Busying herself with finishing off mixing the cake batter, she was just about to divided it into the paper cupcake cases with a baby’s cry came from the living room.

Jen paused and tried not to rush off. Hoping, he would stop and settle again, She began scooping batter into the cases. She made it to four then give in and went into the living room.

‘I’m coming, Louis,’ she called.

Jen stood over pram then picked Louis up. She mumbled things to him and snuggled him. Then realised he needed changing and went and did that. Wrapping him up again, she tried to get him back to sleep but he seemed too awake. Placing him into the pram again, she wheeled him into the kitchen and parked him up.

Finishing dividing the cake mix, she placed the tray into the oven and set the timer. Washing her hands, she tidied everything up then wondered what to do next. On the counter was a pack of spaghetti and a jar of bolognese sauce, this evening dinner.

‘We won’t be needing this now,’ Jen said aloud and put them away, ‘I’ll have some soup instead and you can have some more milk.’

Louis made a moaning sound and Jen checked on him. He had taken both scratch mitts off again.

‘How do you do that?’ Jen wondered.

She put the mitts back on and wheeled him back into the living room. There, she put the TV back and set the channel to one with afternoon game shows as had became her habit. Picking up Louis, she sat cuddling him on the sofa. He dozed on and off then wanted feeding again.

The timer went off whilst she was feeding him and Jen, who hadn’t mastered juggling a baby and other things yet, had to place him down and go to get the cakes out. Louis started crying and her repeatedly tell him she was coming right back had no effect. Cakes out and left to cool, she washed her hands and hurried back to breast feeding him.

Settled again, Jen felt waves of tiredness drifting over her. Louis was a heavy, hot, soft bundle in her arms. The house was warmer now as the heating had come on. Rain was tapping against the windows and even though it was almost four o’clock, night had rolled in.

Realising, she should close the curtains, Jen got up careful and placed Louis in his pram again. She went over to the window and looked out. The street lamps were on and there were cars and people outside. A front door across the road was open, light pooling out and two people were stood in the glow.

A stab of loneliness hit Jen. Her hands slipped from the curtains. She had been ill throughout the whole of her pregnancy and had to have time off work sick then take early maternity leave. Luckily, she and Louis had got through the birth fine, but Jen was recovering and hadn’t left the house much in the last ten months now.

Family and friends had been regularly visitors throughout those months and Jen was grateful for those mornings and afternoons spent with in their company but the mid-week period was the worse time. It was just her and Louis for eight or nine hours whilst Mike was a work and everyone else was too busy.

Jen closed the curtains and tried to get rid of the dreadful feeling filling her up. She checked on Louis who was fast asleep then went into the kitchen. She ate one of the just cooled cakes and made herself a cup of tea.

To help focus herself, Jen thought about plans for the next few weeks. After her last hospital check up, she would started to go out more. She had seen a mums and babies play group advertised at a local church on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. There was also baby swimming on Monday and Friday mornings at the sport centre. On Wednesdays there was the lunch club at her work that she could take Louis too as well.

‘See? You are going to be fine,’ Jen said aloud, ‘just get better.’

Grabbing another cake and her cup of tea, Jen went back to the sofa. Adverts were flashing on the TV and Jen got ready to watch the next quiz show, feeling that little bit better.

Turning #WritePhoto

The seasons where turning, Rachel noticed. The mountain which had been green all spring and summer was becoming a dull brown. In two or three months, Rachel knew it would turn white with snow. A foreshadowing for the other mountains, valleys and the towns within them.

The leaves on the trees were switching colours; the reds, yellows and browns like a dappled painting, framed by windows. Soon, those trees would be bare and Rachel disliked looking at them then. Maybe, someone would hang Christmas fairy lights in them like last year and make them pretty again?

Rachel really hoped that did happen as she spent yet another morning looking out of her bedroom window. It had become something of a habit for the eight am to twelve pm nurse to wheel the chair there and leave.

‘You have a lovely view here! You should enjoy it!’ the nurse might say or else it was, ‘Here, look at the rain,’ or ‘watch the sun light up the mountain this morning.’

Then the nurse would go off to do the tasks on her or his list; changing the bed, preparing the medication, cleaning the equipment etc. Sometimes they would come back to check Rachel was okay, do some vital checks, take some blood, change her tubes if needed.

Most of the time though, Rachel was left staring at the mountain, not being able to move herself or ask the nurse to. And how she wished she could! She hated that mountain and wanted never to see it again but it haunted her.

At night, Rachel would dream of the accident. She was climbing with friends, they were laughing, enjoying the first spring hike up the side. They were camping, cooking, singing, drinking, friends being together. They did this every year, it was normal but this time something was different. The snow hadn’t melted all the way, there was an avalanche. Everyone was screaming, running, falling, flying, dying.

The doctors said Rachel was lucky, she alone had survived somehow but she would never move again.

What kind of life is this? Rachel always thought, I’d be better off dead. I wish I’d died too. God, how I hate that mountain! I can’t bare to see it any more!

 

She would shut her eyes and try to moan. Sometimes that work and the chair would be wheeled away to another part of her bedroom or other part of the house.

The image of the mountain was burned into her eyelids and just like the sounds and sights of the accident, she could never escape.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/09/06/thursday-photo-prompt-turning-writephoto/ with thanks).

Cliff Diving #WeeklyWritingPrompt

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I felt numb as I plunged into the coldness of the sea. The strong waves washed over me, I held my breath and pushed back upwards. For a few seconds, it felt as if something was pulling me back down then I broke through the salt water.

Gasping in deep breaths, aware suddenly of all the sound and touch again. I could hear my four friends on the cliff edge calling down to me, clapping and shouting. I had been the first to take the dive, not because I was the bravest but because I had drawn the shortest dune grass.

The waves echoed in my ears as well as the splashing against me. I could feel of the cold blow of the water against my warm skin, running down my hair and face. My navy blue swimming trunks flushed tight against my upper legs and waist. From above, came the heat off the sun, in a cloudless, crystal blue sky and the distant screeching of seagulls.

Letting the motion of the sea drift me away from the cliff, I bobbed about. Having had my minute of fame, though perhaps it had taken less time to fall, I waited for my friends to join me, it was one of the rules we had agreed on as we had walked up the cliff. We’d then swim back to the shore and meet up with the two girls who had stayed on the beach.

Something brushed my leg and I looked down into the settling water. It was properly just some seaweed but it could be a jellyfish. We had seen some washed up on the beach before as we had explored; clear and purple dotted moon jellyfish, a large flopping lion mane who’s sting would hurt for weeks and a possible barrel jellyfish, alien looking with it’s large domed milky white body and twisted tentacles trailing out of it.

The last thing I wanted on this holiday was to get stung or injured by something. I couldn’t see anything below the waves, just my legs kicking about. There came no tingle of pain, so it was just seaweed after all. A small part of me didn’t feel convinced by that thought, but surely, I argued with myself, I’d be able to see a jellyfish.

Looking up at the cliff, I watched the next person jump. They were wearing black shorts and had tucked their legs and arms in like a more practiced diver. I guessed it was Eric. I hadn’t stayed to watch the others draw, wanting my jump to be over before sense got the better of me.

It was an exciting but silly thing to do. The others though, had reassured me it was fine. They had jumped from that cliff often enough and there were no rocks as long as you jumped out a short distance away. If you jumped straight down, which was a stupid thing to do, you’d likely smash into the cliff side or the rocks that formed a wall at the base.

Eric hit the waves hard, sending up great splashes which washed over and caused me to struggle to remain a float. He reappeared some distance away to my right and we had to swim towards each other.

‘What a rush!’ he yelled, shaking his dripping dyed lime green hair back.

I paused, feeling something touch the bottom of my left foot then climb to my ankle. I trod water and looked down but there was too much disturbance to see.

‘Something’s got my foot!’ I shouted.

‘You what?’ Eric hollered back, ‘look, here comes Hoggy and Brad, the chicken!’

I glanced up in time to see the giant form of Hugh Hogson hurtling towards the crashing waves. I heard the slap of his over weight body hit the surf then I felt a harder tug on my leg. Twisting and kicking, I tried to release myself but the force of the waves bashed into me and I floundered for a few seconds.

My head couldn’t stay above water and all I could hear were the waves. The something tightened on my ankle, crawling up my leg and dragging me down.

‘Help!’ I screamed.

Sea water rushed into my mouth, the salt stung my eyes and I went under. The waves rocked around me, tossing me like a ball between children. I tried to look at what had got my leg, but everything was so churned up. I thrust my arms out and began sweeping them upwards like a bird trying to get off the ground.

Can’t breath! Have to get up!

Kicking and pushing, I fought against whatever was holding me and the current. My head popped up, I sucked in air, once, twice then was under again. I was aware of nothing but the tight pain across my ankle and sea in my ears, nose and mouth.

Stop panicking, hold your breath and look.

I stopped moving, breath held and chest tightening. Looking down, I saw a thin rope wrapped around my leg. I couldn’t see where it lead to; a rock, the sea floor? It ran away, back towards the cliff.

Reaching down, I gripped the rope in both hands and tugged. I couldn’t tell if it came loose or not. The sea seemed determined to stop my efforts though and it was as if it wanted me, was holding me captive. That was a strange thought. I needed to breath again.

Struggling upwards, feeling tried, I broke the surf again. I bobbed and looked around. Eric had been close enough before but now I saw no one just the white topped waves hurrying towards me.

‘Help! Help! I shouted.

I splashed in the waves and felt the rope tighten around my foot again. I knew this time I was going under so stopped speaking and downed lots of air. A sharper tug and the waves were back crashing over my head as I spiraled downwards. Blindly, I reached down to my foot, trying to curl my body to make the distant shorter. I felt the rope and panic soared though me.

Something grabbed my arm. A hand? Fingers? I felt myself being pulled up but at the same time the rope was tugging me back down. I was aware of someone else beside me and we both broke the surface together.

‘There’s a rope around my foot!’ I shouted, not even bothering to see who had saved me.

A large wave drove into me and I was washed away and down again. I’d only taken one breath and it was knocked out of me. I spun, kicking and trying to escape. I thought I felt someone or someones touching me and the rope was a constant pain and tugging.

Strong arms, yanked me up and I was able to breath again. I couldn’t see, there was too much salt water in my eyes.

‘Stay still!’ Hog’s voice shouted.

I thought about laughing, maybe I even did little bit. Didn’t Hog know that was impossible? The sea had decided to take me prisoner and it wasn’t going to let me go. I felt myself floating, the waves carrying me away. If I just let them it would all be okay. Maybe, the sea would be happy with just me and wouldn’t take them?

Water spluttered out of my mouth and my eyes eased open. My vision was blurred and I felt pain all over but it was worse in my left ankle. I wanted to roll to my side then try to sit up but two men in red t-shirts were holding me down.

‘Just breath and take it easy. You’re safe now,’ one of the men said.

Safe at the bottom of the sea with merpeople?

No, I was on the beach, I could feel the sharp shelly sand underneath me. Slowly, my vision and the sound of my ragged breathing cleared away. I saw my friends looking down at me; the boys dripping wet and the girls in their bikinis.

‘The ambulance is here,’ someone said.

I tried to say I was okay and didn’t need it but I just coughed up more water instead. The two coast guards and man from the ambulance got me on a stretcher and carried me up to the road and the awaiting yellow van.

Eric came with me, bring our bags from the beach. I was grateful but too tried to tell him. I dozed on and off during the ride and thought the sea was still trying to claim me. I spent the rest of the afternoon in hospital and was well enough to go back to the hotel in the evening.

My nightmares that night were filled with drowning and the rope. Sometimes I was surrounded by angry looking fish, other times it was merpeople, the rest I can’t remember.

Even since, I have stayed away from large bodies of water. Not even wanting to dip my toes in. The lingering idea that the sea was trying to keep me prisoner sticks with me, even though I know it’s not true, I can’t shake the feeling that there was more then just the rope holding me beneath the waves that day.

 

(Inspired from; https://secretkeeper.net/2018/06/25/weekly-writing-prompt-147/ with thanks).

Unexpected Friends #OneLinerWednesday

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Turns out Jack had nothing to worry about at all because his dog and mouse really got on.

(Inspired by; https://lindaghill.com/2018/06/20/one-liner-wednesday-a-game-of-dog-and-mouse/ with thanks).

Globe

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I stood before my old high school, looking up at the massive building whilst a mixture of thoughts and feelings raged inside of me. It had only been three years since I’d last gone up the stone steps, through a set of the wooden double doors and down the corridor to my last day here.

The next day, the school had shut down and workmen had built a tall chain link fence around everything. Signs warning of closer, danger and demolishing in progress hung down. My friends and I were not put off by them though. The six of us had returned for one night to have a last wander though the halls and classrooms before they were gone forever.

‘There’s a way in around the back,’ Edison’s voice whispered.

‘Let’s go then,’ Hunter answered back.

We set off quickly and followed the fence all the way around the back to where the gym and sport fields where. There wasn’t anyone around on this warm spring evening, the workmen building the new housing estate across the way, had gone home and since the roads around here had been blocked off, there was no reason to drive around here.

‘There’s the gap,’ Edison pointed out.

We all stopped and looked. I would have missed the small cut in the links if he hadn’t pointed it out. Edison was small and chubby, really geeky looking with large glasses and longish brown hair. He was our guide, having come last week with his older brother.

Edison pulled apart the links quickly, the sound was loud and echoing, then he duck down and wiggled through. He held one side and the rest of us followed him; Hunter, Dusty, Spencer, Marci – the only girl- and me, Corey. We all had rucksacks and since we were all eighteen or over, we hadn’t really had to explain to anyone what we were going to do.

Keeping in the shadows of the building, Edison took us through a broken in fire door and we entered the main building. The familiar smells of wood vanish, lemon cleaning spray, books and sweat hit me and took me straight back to being fifteen again. It was like I was hurrying to my class again and going off to meet my friends for lunch.

It felt different though; the halls and classrooms were empty. The walls looked duller and most of the posters had been taken down. There was an eerie sense of loss to the place, like at a funeral. Our footsteps echoed too loudly as we peered into classrooms, looking for things.

‘Let’s go to the library,’ Marci whispered, though her voice carried.

‘I heard they’d got rid of all the books,’ Spencer muttered back.

‘I want to go and tag some stuff,’ Hunter said, ‘let’s split up.’

I went with Edison and Marci whilst Dusty choice to go with the other two. We heard them a few moments later smashing a door window and shaking cans of paint spray.

‘Hooligans,’ Marci said under her breath.

I had to agree. The whole point of coming here was to say goodbye to the place. Though I doubt anyone would care what we did. On the approached to the library we found torn pages and books scattered around, someone had been here before us.

Marci toed a few of the books, looking very unhappy in the low light. She had always been the bookworm of the group, though we all liked books, expect for Hunter. Marci went to the door and opened it. Edison and I followed and I saw that Spencer had almost been right.

All the bookcases were empty, but there were a few piles of books on the tables and floors. Marci and Edison began pouring over them, taking the ones they wanted. I went the counter and flipped through a dusty history book. Nothing took my fancy so after a few minutes, I got bored and decided to leave.

Walking down the corridors, I entered a few classrooms and saw that only a few had their desks and chairs piled up against the back wall. I guess they must have sold a lot of stuff off. On the blackboards, the people that had broken in before us had written rude things and draw interesting pictures. There was graffiti on the walls too that added to the sense of abandonment.

Opening the door of my old geography classroom, I walked in and saw a globe on the teacher’s desk. I touched the old paper map and give it a spin, there was nothing wrong with it. I looked and saw on the walls old posters of different countries. There was also a bookcase a quarter filled with atlas and guide books to different places. I collected them all, Marci would like them then with a shrug, I picked up the globe and left.

We all meet back some hours later, our rucksacks and arms full of gathered stuff. There was the scent of smoke in the air and I guessed that some of the others had been up to more then just tagging and looting.

‘What you want that old thing for?’ Hunter asked me.

Everyone turned to look. The globe was too big for my rucksack which had a few books, rolled posters and other stuff inside, so I was holding it instead.

‘It’s kinda cool. What are going to do with all those wires?’ I counted back.

‘Sell them,’ he replied.

There was some swapping of items and talking over things. Then we left. The sky was inky black with a handful of stars and the street was quiet. We walked together for awhile then went our different ways home.

Once there, I put the globe on my desk and spun it again. It felt a strange thing to take from an about to be demolished place but I felt oddly drawn to it. Leaving the stuff in my bag till later, I studied the world, mapping my way across it as I had never done in geography lessons.

Tiredness caught up with me and I saw it was nearly midnight. Giving the globe a final spin I went to bed, my head full of memories from my old high school.

Postcard # 45

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Dear Rose,

I know we’ve not spoken in ages but today I saw this postcard and it reminded me of you. I hope the old people’s home is treating you nicely! It’s not been the same since you left and we were worried about the new family moving into your home. Everyone wanted to save all your flowers but it didn’t seem possible. Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that a kind old couple brought the place and they have a love of flowers too, so everything is safe!

I should visit you soon, perhaps around your birthday.

All the best,

Flo.

Crow #writephoto

The crow was out there in the dead tree cawing loudly again. I pressed my forehead to the condensation covered spare bedroom window and searched for him. In the early evening, storm coloured garden, the sooty bird was difficult to spot unless you knew where to look for him.

I forced on the highest branches which were bobbing in the wind and there was the crow. He was silhouetted against the dark grey sky, his head thrown back, cawing continuously. It was hard to tell if he was sounding an alarm or just making a racket to disturb me.

Stepping back from the window, I rubbed my aching head and reminded myself there was nothing I could do about the crow. He was just another problem I’d inherited from my recently passed mother. Turning on the TV to try and cover some of the crow’s noise, I got ready for my night shift on the building site.

When I was ready to leave, I went to the back door which we’d always used as the front door. Yanking down the handle, I tried to rush outside but a black mass flew in my face. I shouted, twisted away and tried to grab the thing. Feathers whipped my face, claws scratched my arms, a sharp beak tried to peck at me.

I stumbled outside, almost tripping on the step. Catching my breath, I turned and looked into the doorway. A single black feather lay there. I peered in and spotted the crow hopping around the kitchen. He was busy making himself at home amongst my mother’s pots, pans, glass bottle collection and tatty books.

Swearing loudly, I slammed the door and left. Getting in my car, I drove to work, my head all full of that damn crow. My mother had made him a pet, having found him as an abandoned chick and now he refused to become wild again. I had tried capturing him and taking him far away and to animal charities but he always ended up coming back.

Arriving at work, I tried to become calm again but it was so hard when I knew the crow would be waiting for me. Taking deep breaths, I went about my shift which thankfully was quiet. I finished at six am though with the dark winter sky and the sun having a lay in, made it seem like it was still the middle of the night.

Coming home, I felt tried and once through the door, the annoyance started again. The crow was waiting for me, perched on the back of a chair. He watched me with beady eyes and I swear if he could’ve spoken English he would have demanded I leave.

Sighing, I pulled up the chair next to him, carefully and sit down.

‘How about we just become friends?’ I suggested.

He put his head to the side, seeming to consider me then give a slight nod.

‘You respect me and I’ll respect you,’ I added, ‘and now I’m off to bed.’

Getting up, I clopped upstairs in my work boots the soft cawing of the crow following me.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/01/11/thursday-photo-prompt-crow-writephoto/ with thanks).

Resolution

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It was all ready a week into the new year and I still hadn’t decided on any resolutions. Though as my best friend had delighted in telling me, ‘goals of the new year,’ was now the fashion. Instead of being negative and ‘giving up things,’ make what you want to do more positive. So like saying ‘this year I’m going to go on a strict diet and really going to lose this weight,’ turn it around and say ‘I’m going to buy that dress one size down to inspire me eat less everyday.’  It didn’t seem to matter to me though, they both meant the same thing.

Tapping a pen from my new stationary set on the blank piece of paper before me, I wondered why I needed to write down some yearly goals anyway. What was behind this tradition of setting these goals in a new year? Why couldn’t you write them down some other time? What if you had no goals?

I slide the piece of paper away and placed the pen on top. I folded my arms over my chest and stared at them. This year, I wasn’t going to set any goals. I was just going to live how I wanted to.

 

(Inspired by; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/01/04/tale-weaver-153-the-new-year-4th-january-2018/ with thanks).