Wishes #WritePhoto

There was so much hanging off the small tree it was hard to see the branches and leaves. I looked up in wonder at all the ribbons, plastic straps, paper and other stuff waving in the summer breeze. It reminded me of a Christmas tree.

I wished I’d brought something to hang in the tree. I looked around to see if there was anything close by but there wasn’t anything in the copse. Expect….I was wearing a red ribbon in my hair today.

I took the bow out in one, my hair falling around me then tried to find a spot on the tree anywhere I could reach. There was only the thin trunk which looked so bare compared to the branches. I didn’t think my ribbon was long enough to wrap around, so went for the begin of a branch instead.

Tying the ribbon there, I made a wish. Then shut my eyes and spun around three times. Stopping, I walked off in the direction before me, not looking back at the tree. And that was how the Wishing Tree worked.

 

(Inspired by https://scvincent.com/2018/07/12/thursday-photo-prompt-wishes-writephoto/ with thanks).

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Books #WhatPegmanSaw

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She could get lost in here. Bookcases rose all around her, filled deep with knowledge and life. She didn’t know where to begin it was so over welling. She had been told it was huge and grand but this was beyond what she had imagined.

Reaching out, she ran her fingers along the spines of the books as she walked. She thought she could feel little throbs and whispers as she did so. It was a librarian’s best dream and it was going to take awhile for her to realise this was now her reality.

(Inspired by; https://whatpegmansaw.com/2018/07/14/baltimore-maryland/ with thanks).

 

The Set #FridayFictioneers

Will had learnt not to question things on the odd jobs he picked up during summer but this time was a little different. Helping the set producer prepare the background, Will wondered what this movie was about. It’s a horror for sure he decided, placing paper pumpkin lights in a too fake creepy tree.

Another assistant wheeled on a rectangular cage trolley then helped an actor who was heavy bandaged and wearing a blood stained white doctor coat inside.

‘What is this about?’ Will asked.

‘It’s a love story between two burn victims,’ the set producer answered with a shrug.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/07/11/13-july-2018/ with thanks).

The Chestnut Mare

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To Penny there was nothing like being on the back of a running horse. The power of the mare under her, the wind whipping her hair, the warmth of the summer evening. It was the escape that really made Penny happy. Here there was no technology, no stresses, she could be alone and herself.

The horse ran on, the short grass and soft soil making it easier for her. Penny thought she was enjoying the run too. The weather had been far too hot later for such activities and the mare wasn’t one to be fenced up for days. They could be free together in the wilderness.

Crossing #WritePhoto

Something from my childhood came back into my mind as I walked across the stone foot bridge; ‘don’t trip or the witch will get you!’ I paused, hearing a memory of girls laughing. What was that about?

I shook it off and looked over the side of the bridge. A low, slow river was running under the three stone archways, making nice tinkling and bubbling music. The water was clear, thanks to the bright day and I could see a few weeds and plants caught in the current. There was no rubbish which strangely reminded me I was so far from London.

I breathed in the fragrant countryside air and tried hard to recall that memory. Something about going to school and me hating having my hair tied up in two pigtail plaits. Two girls in bright red dresses throwing stones into the water and shouting at the witch to appear.

It was all too faded to remember correctly. Resting against the cool stone, I let the flow of the water help me drift further into my memories. I had been seven when I had been evacuated from home. There was a war on and it was safe in the countryside then London because of the bombs. I didn’t really understand anything else at the time.

I was extremely lucky as my mother was heavily pregnant and also my brother was only one and half years old, so we got to stay together. The other children, I remember didn’t and they had to say goodbye to their mothers at the train station. Our other stroke of luck was that my father’s sister lived out here and she had agreed to take us in.

It was like going on holiday, mother had said and so it sort of was. Only, I had to go to a new school and make new friends which wasn’t that bad because I was so young. I missed my bedroom and our house though, sadly it got blown up in the Blitz but I didn’t know that until years later.

My cousin! That was the other girl in the red dress and she’d told me that about tripping on the bridge and a witch grabbing you.

I felt sadden I’d forgotten that but it had been so very long ago and Sarah had died a young teenager of scarlet fever. At the time, we had all ready been moved some years, to a large house on the edge of the village and daddy was back from the war and it was all over.

Hadn’t I cried for days when my parents had told me? I had gone to her funeral in red – her favorite color- instead of black like everyone else. I was thirteen or fourteen then. And just like when I was seven and I didn’t full understand the war or why we had to move away, I didn’t understand why Sarah was gone.

We moved back to London after that I think. Dad had secured a job there and we needed to be closer. Auntie came to live with us for awhile but I think the sadness of having no daughter and no husband – killed in France- got to her and she moved away.

Other thoughts tumbled into my mind, unlocked by all of this. It was strange to come back here and remember things I shouldn’t have forgotten. Maybe, it was best that they became forgotten once again though? I felt, that these memories had come back to me and I should do something with them.

‘Grandma!’ a voice called, breaking my thoughts.

I turned and saw my granddaughter, Hattie, running towards me. My daughter and husband following behind.

‘Don’t trip or the witch will get you!’ I said.

That made her stop and glance around, ‘witch? where?’ she questioned.

‘The one that lives under the bridge,’ I explained.

Hattie joined me and tried to look over the wall but she was too small.

‘She likes little girls the best,’ I carried on, not sure if I was making it up or if more was coming back to me, ‘she cooks them in her big pot and eats them with bread!’

Hattie pulled a face and shook her head, ‘I don’t believe you, grandma!’

I swooped down on her, making crackling witch like sounds. Hattie screamed then burst into laughter as I started tickling her and I remembered, a long, long time ago, two girls laughing and tickling each other on this bridge, joking about an old saying.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/07/05/thursday-photo-prompt-crossing-writephoto/ with thanks).

Lost Leg #FridayFictioneers

It was a strange sight to see in the middle of the street, so Janet couldn’t help but wonder about it. The prosthetic leg could be a sculptor; a creative reminder about disabled people. Some kind of statement. It was just an odd way to show it, but then what did Janet know about modern art these days?

Or, as Janet turned about at the approaching of a one legged man on crutches, someone might just have lost their leg…

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/07/04/6-july-2018/ with thanks).

Burnt #3LineTales

three line tales week 127: a desert

The wildfire had spread so much that the fireman couldn’t save anything and had abandoned their attempted to put the flames out.

Days later, I walked along a strip of the burnt out wildness, noticing how the once green area was now as dry and bare as a desert,  it saddened my heart to see the loss of the plants and animals.

However, my team of biologists and myself were going to try and change that, somehow we would built back what the fire had destroyed and make this a natural haven once more.

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2018/07/05/three-line-tales-week-127/ with thanks).

Gardeners #FFfAW

It had been a long four months but the last of the flowers were finally planted. Denise sighed with relieve and tidied away her tools. It had been a hot day and she just wanted to get home and have a long, cool bath.

‘It’s done,’ Maria spoke.

Denise turned to her business partner and nodded. She was too tried to speak.

They gathered their things and with a last look, they left. Tomorrow the gardens would open to the public for first time in years and they would see if all their hard work paid off or not.

(Inspired by; https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/07/02/fffaw-challenge-172nd/ with thanks).

Chain #TwittingTales

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She walked down the hardware shop’s aisle of chains and selected the thickest, heaviest one. She brought some other things too, just so it wouldn’t look suspicious. Back home, she fixed the chain to the metal clips then attached it to her Newfoundland’s collar.  No longer would he been escaping the garden.

 

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2018/07/03/twittering-tales-91-chains-3-july-2018/ with thanks).

Tall Ships #3LineTales

three line tales, week 126: a tall ship on the liffey at sunrise

It had been a close call but everyone had made it into the dock before darkness had fallen. Martin looked at the map again and realized that he hadn’t been wrong after all, the height of the bridge was labeled wrong. It was higher by a meter in real life then the little drawing said, thank God it wasn’t a meter lower or none of the tall ships would have got in, he thought, I’ll change it and then let whoever published this map know tomorrow.    

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2018/06/28/three-line-tales-week-126/ with thanks).