Trip #100WW

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He wouldn’t have liked his strangers going through his things and putting them on display. He was a private, independent and adventurous young man with a quiet talent. Those strangers probably thought they were doing a good thing; does anyone recognise this bag and contents? Handed to police (in random country). It only made me more heartbroken though because it meant he had truly gone. He wouldn’t leave his things like that. I suppose I should be happy to get them back but I’d rather it had been him instead.         

(Inspired from; https://bikurgurl.com/2017/11/08/100-word-wednesday-week-44 with thanks.)

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Postcard #39

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Saw this postcard at the last car boot sale of the year and it so reminded me of you. I was hoping it would reach you before Halloween but doubtful with the village post! Found this book too and it seemed interesting, something about a vampire virus. Anyway, hope to see you around Christmas.

Ben.

Ebb #writephoto

When the tide went out it left the small beach cove layered in seaweed which made it a dangerous place to go for an walk. It was my favorite spotted though because it was empty of people and great for finding items to make my crafts with.

I was walking along the edge, putting interesting bits of wood, shells and other items in my basket. The sea, though distance was still loud as the autumn wind was strong and a drizzle was falling. Letting my raincoat hood fall back, I heard the loud cries of a cat.

Frowning, I followed the sound and a few meters down on the beach I saw a movement of black and heard a strangled cry. Placing down my basket, I carefully walked over the seaweed and slippy rocks. Twice, I felt like I was going to slip but I was able to keep my balance.

From out of a large pile of seaweed rose a small, skinny black cat. He’s huge green eyes focused on me and he’s meows were so pleading it was heartbreaking. I slowly crept closer, but the cat didn’t try to run away, in fact he seemed to be awaiting me. Bit unusual for a cat!

‘Okay, kitty. I’m only here to help you,’ I said gently.

I began taking the long strips of wet seaweed off the cat’s back, thinking at any moment he would do a runner. My fingers touched the cat’s fur and I realised he was soaked through. He meowed at me and kept trying to pulled himself free.

‘How long have been here, cat? Did you decided to take a walk and fell into this seaweed?’ I asked.

He meowed at me some more. I took the last slimy piece off his back then moved on to his legs. Somehow, he’d really got himself wrapped up.  As I untangled a third leg the cat struggled out and shook himself.

‘You’re free now,’ I said with a smile.

The black cat pressed up against me, meowing more softer this time. I stroked his wet head and back. He was so skinny! His tail swayed around, sometimes hitting my leg, I ignored that as I glanced around.

‘Will you let me carry you?’ I asked, ‘just in case you get stuck again?’

Carefully, I picked him up and let him climb up to my shoulder. He pressed his head to my ear and give a low purr. I turned and began making my way back, slowly. It was hard going with just one arm for balance and the sight of a cat blocking my view but we made it back. Just in time for it to start raining.

I grabbed my basket and hurried home. The cat not seeming to mind as he bounced on my shoulder. Entering the  seaside village, I made straight for my shop front then around to the back door which was my front door to my apartment above.  When we got in and up the narrow stairs, I set the cat down then my basket. Taking off my shoes, coat and jumper, I left everything at the front door and went to get a towel.

I dried myself off then the cat. He wasn’t wearing a collar but he was too friendly not to be someone’s pet. Though, I’d not seen a black cat around here, since my own; Web who’d died two years ago. Luckily, I had kept her stuff and I give the black cat a bowl of water and a handful of cat treats that I’d not thrown away yet.

In the coming months, I tried hard to find the cat’s owner, but no one ever came forward to claim him. He made himself at home and was loved by everyone who came into the shop. People also said how fitting it was for a black cat to live in a witch’s shop. I had to agree and some days, I did wonder if he had actually come to me. A witch wasn’t a witch without her black cat familiar!

Oh, I called him Ebb by the way. That seemed kind of fitting.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2017/10/26/thursday-photo-prompt-ebb-writephoto with thanks).

Jump

14 John Robinson 17 September 2017

There were flowers on the bridge again. I noticed them on my way to work. It seemed to be the way around here and everyone knew what they meant so no questions were ever asked.

I’d never seen anyone jump. I heard they did it at night so there was less chance of them being stopped. I didn’t understand it. What could make people decided to do that? Only they could answer, for only they knew what was in their heads.

I went to church and learnt it was the Devil that made people jump. Walking over the bridge the next day, I stopped and looked over the wall. Below the murky waters flowed, looking as inviting sewage. And yet, I felt drawn. It looked so calm down there and so peaceful, not like the madness of this city. You work or you die!

You jump and live…..

 What was that voice? Where had it come from?

Why did I feel the urge to climb the wall?

Be Free! Jump!

I was climbing up. I was dropping my things, taking off my coat. People were gasping, shouting. The wind felt so good on my face. My feet were leaving the wall.

I wanted to be free.

 

(Inspired by; https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/09/17/sunday-photo-fiction-september-17th-2017/ with thanks).

Spur #writephoto

It was a strange thing to find in a charity shop and I don’t know why I was drawn to it. The spur was rusty but the spiky wheel still spun and it could still be placed onto the back of a boot. I didn’t want it for that though. I brought it, along with the other items I’d picked up then I took it home.

There was no where to place the spur in any room of my house, so I settled for putting it in the cacti bowl that lived in the kitchen. Then I just forgot about it which is just something everyone does.

I don’t know how long had passed but one night I had this weird dream where I was walking through the desert and I came to this abandoned wooden mining town. I walked through the silent buildings and saw a spur, just like the one I’d brought, laying on the sandy ground. I think I tried to pick it up but the dream ended.

After breakfast that morning, I looked for the spur in the cacti bowl. It wasn’t there. Shrugging and thinking one of my housemates had moved it, I went to university for the day and once again forgot all about it.

 

I had another dream days later and I remember this one more because I don’t normally recall my dreams that well. Once again, I was in the desert and walking through that abandoned silent town. I saw the spur and this time I picked it up. I spun the spiky wheel and sliced my finger.

A drop of blood hit the sand at my feet and sunk into the grains. I frowned and began to move on but the ground trembled and a zombie hand shot out and grabbed my boot. I screamed, yelled and tried to kick away. The hand hung on. Panic rose within me, I kicked hard but that caused the hand to pull more out of the sand and I realised the hand wasn’t trying to drag me down but it get itself up!

Without thinking, I jabbed the spur into the rotting hand. The fingers seemed to loosen. I jabbed harder, sticking the spur in like a knife and leaving it there. I kicked with my other foot and punched with my hands until the zombie hand let me go. I stumbled away then finding my feet fled the ghost town.

I awoke in a pool of sweat and shivering. My bed was a mess and my breathing was super loud. I got up and went to the window. It was a cold and wet autumn day but I opened the window and let the strong wind blast the reminds of the dream away.

I had a shower, got dressed and was grateful that I didn’t have any uni classes to attend today. The house was quiet, so I didn’t know who was in. There were dishes in the sink though and the living room was a mess. I tidied up, hoping it would take my mind off everything. Also, I had to find that spur!

When it didn’t turn up, I stuck a note on the fridge and asked my housemates to please return the spur to me. I went to my room and tried to study but my mind was far from my essay and research reading. Instead, I did some internet searching into spurs and abandoned towns in the desert. I didn’t find many answers to the questions I didn’t even know I had.

I went out in the afternoon to the shops and to the town’s library which was nothing compared to the uni’s library but at least I finally got a clear head to study! When I got back that evening, I asked my three housemates about the spur but none of them had seen it.

‘Like a cowboy boot spur?’ Josh asked.

I nodded.

They were all sat in the living room, the TV on an American comedy show and a menu for a local Chinese on the coffee table.

‘Why do you have one of them, Rachel?’ Holly cut in.

‘ It seemed interesting….’ I replied.

‘We’re going to order, soon,’ Kaden switching out, you want anything?’

‘Sure,’ I sighed and picked the menu up.

 

That night the dream came again. This time though I was more prepared and though the zombie scared me, I let him raise from the sand. He was dressed in the reminds of  brown leather pants and a jacket. Holding down my fear, I held the spur out to him. With a loud groan he took it from my stretched out hand then turned away from me.

My eyes flicked open. My dark student bedroom morphing before me. I fumbled for the lamp and got blinded by the light. I rubbed my face and hobbled to the bathroom. Afterwards, I padded back and got into bed again. The near silence of the house hurt my ears and I just wanted to go to sleep again.

I never saw the spur again.

 

(Inspired from; https://scvincent.com/2017/10/19/thursday-photo-prompt-spur-writephoto/ with thanks).

Gone #ThreeLineTales

three line tales week 90: New York subway

On the wrong train! Was in hurry just got on the 1st 1 it’s full of strange people who keep staring at me it’s dead quiet no 1 is doing anything. Should get off at the next stop but scared 2.  

(Inspired from; https://only100words.xyz/2017/10/19/three-line-tales-week-90 with thanks).

The Hanging Tree #FridayFictoneers

I’d always admired the old tree because of it’s size and odd shape, but the dark history that was attached to it always made me shiver. People had been hung for their crimes on the thick lowest branch. The rope cuts could still be seen between the knots. Every Halloween people came to ‘see’ ghostly figures hanging down and ‘hear’ the moans of the lost. I though, only had to look out of my bedroom window to see those souls and though I’d tried to get use to them I couldn’t.

 

(Inspired from; https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/10/18/13-october-2017/ with thanks).

The Window #TwitteringTales

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It was her only source of comfort in the dank basement but it also showed her a view of an outside world she could never be a part of again.

(Inspired from; https://katmyrman.com/2017/10/17/twittering-tale-44-17-october-2017/ with thanks).

Ghost Ship

214 10 October 15th 2017

Officer James had laughed off the stories about the ghost ship. Drunk sailors and ill tourists were always full of these kind of tales. That was until he was woken rudely from his sleep and hurried on to the deck by a junior officer. James looked over the side and saw bobbing on the calm waves the outline of an early 1900’s ship.

‘It’s the ghost ship!’ someone shouted.

‘I don’t believe it, binoculars!’ James snapped back.

A hand passed him them and James looked through. It was hard in the dim light, but the ship was glowing which made it easier. He couldn’t believe his eyes and though he tried not to believe it, the ghost ship was too hard to dismiss.

 

(Insipre by: https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/10/15/sunday-photo-fiction-october-15th-2017/ with thanks).

Tower #writephoto

The tower stood all alone at the tip of the peak. A set of half hidden stone steps leading the way up and a little archway coming from the reminds of a boundary wall. If you didn’t know the structure was there, you’d easily miss it behind the tall trees and bushes.

I made my way up through all the under scrub and reached the first of the steps. I stopped, wiped my sweaty face and noticed that it was now early evening and still warm for a mid-autumn day. Though the darkening sky threatened rain.

I walked up the steps, sticking to the left edge, in case I slipped. The moss and grass underfoot was wet and squelchy, but I had good boots on. Making it to the top, I studied the tower and tried to figure out what it could be. Folklore said it had been part of a small castle but that wouldn’t make sense high up here in the middle of nowhere. Instead, I decided it was a folly; a once pretty decoration to breakup a travellers day. Maybe, it had also doubled as a shelter.

There didn’t seem to be a door, but there were a few windows higher up. Moss and climbing plants covered both sides and dripped with raindrops. I turned my face to the sky and a few landed on my cheeks. I glanced about for some cover but beside from the small arch and a few trees there was nothing.

I walked around the tower again and as I reached my starting point once more, a wooden door was open before me. I stopped, staring and frowning. How was this possible? There had been nothing there less then a minute ago!

I went to the door and looked in.

‘Hello?’ I shouted into the darkness.

My voice echoed then as if in answer the rain rushed down. Yelping, I dived into the tower and pressed my back against cold, damp wall. Luckily, I had dressed warming in a hat and all weather coat, so I wasn’t that wet. Looking out of the doorway, I saw that unless I did want to take a bath, I’d have to wait for the rain to pass.

I felt a tingle up my spine and tried to peer though the darkness to make anything out. Unable to see, I swung my bag off and dug a small torch out. The thin beam didn’t show me much. The stone walls looked a lighter grey and less moss covered. There was a leak close by and the floor was stone. There seem no way upwards and nothing else in here with me.

Slumming, against the wall, I decided to have something to eat and drink. That would pass a few minutes. The rain was so loud outside that it took me a few minutes to hear the sound of stone rubbing against stone. Crumpling the wrapper of the energy bar as I stuffed the rest in my mouth, I shone my torch around again.

A stone spiral staircase had appeared a few feet away from me against the far wall! Telling myself, I’d just missed it last time because it was dark in here and my torch wasn’t good, I collect my things. Shuffling over, I tapped the bottom step with my boot then began to climb up. It was a tight fit and my bag scrapped the wall beside me.

Arriving at the top and stepping through an open archway my torch showed me a cobwebbed room. There was a small double bed with a red canopy, a table and chair and a bookcase. I walked in, my mind flipping over and over as I tried to figure out what this could be. A room for a traveller to spend the night? But why?

I reached the bed and shone my torch over it. The bed was made and covered by a red blanket that matched the canopy. Straight away, I thought about fairy tales and Sleeping Beauty came to mind. Shrugging, I moved away and went to the bookcase which was empty.

I didn’t like the feel of the room and decided I’d rather go downstairs to wait there. I went to the door…but it wasn’t there.

Laughing, I traced the wall with my light, knowing any second it would hit the door. I did a full sweep and nothing.

‘Ha ha! Must have missed it!’ I spoke aloud.

I went to check again but a noise behind me caused me spin around. The sheets on the bed were rising upwards… I swallowed and kept the torch beam pinned on the spot.

‘Hello?’ I called, ‘I’m sorry to disturb you. I got a little lost.’

The sheet came from the bed and hung in mid-air at the side.

I froze, feeling terror shooting through me. My body shook and I wanted so badly to run away. But where was I going to go to?

The sheet moved, drifting towards me.

A scream escaped my mouth, I twisted away, flinging myself against the wall. My hands raced over the stones, looking for the door, my finger nails scrapped the surface, desperate to feel the wood again.

A whisper tickled my ears, I couldn’t pause my panic attack to figure out what it was then I felt a touch of velvet cloth against the back of my neck. A scream, I never knew I could produce echoed around the room. I turned, flattened my back against the wall and face the sheet head on.

Only….there was nothing there…

 

Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2017/10/12/thursday-photo-prompt-tower-writephoto with thanks).