Ahead #Writephoto

Sitting down on a rickety bench, I admired the view from atop the little hill we had climbed.  It was a good enough day for a walk; sunny but not too warm or bright, there was a gently breeze and Spring was busting awake in the air. The countryside rolled out below me, seeming to shake off a grey winter’s blanket to start popping with colour once again.

I breathed in the sweet, flower fragrance air and thought about how much I’d just missed this. I raised my hands and put them up to the breeze, feeling that invisible and freeing force. Lowing them, my coat and long t-shirt sleeves rolled down and I caught sight of the fresh looking, raw scar along my right arm. It went from my wrist to my elbow, were they had to put pins in to help heal the bone right.

I can’t bare to touch it and before the memories had time to build again, I looked out over the countryside. I could see some sheep in the distance like little puffs of clouds, there were a few trees just getting their green leaves back and down in that twist of valley, a river was meandering through like it had been for hundreds of years. Birds were twitting and singing passionately, though I couldn’t see them. There was all this natural blue and green everywhere.

Was this Eden?

A few shaky breaths came out of me then I noticed my arm was shaking. I drew my sleeves back down, hiding the messed up skin. Hugging my arm as a hurt child would, the mantra I had adopted began to repeat in my head; at least I’m still here. Looking down, I saw my knees were pressed hard together. I relaxed them, only to feel dull achy pain in both my legs. The right leg was scared the same as my right arm, from knee to ankle. The left wasn’t that bad because that side hadn’t been trapped by the motorcycle.

A dog’s barking drew my attention away. I raised my head and looked around. The barking was from my Westie, but I couldn’t see that white fluffy ball against the green underbushes. I clung to the bench, as I twisted around looking for him, my fingers curling over the weather-worn wood. Then he appeared trotting down the little pathway with my older Scottie dog tailing him.

‘Hey, where you two been?’ I asked them.

At the sound of my voice, they both raced over and jumped onto the bench. I laughed as they both crowed my lap and licked at me. I felt wet, muddy paws on my jeans and coat, and even wetter noses and tongues against my skin. I hugged them both, breathing in the countryside in their furs.

Two more dogs appeared at my knees; a faithfully golden retriever and grey hound.  I freed a hand and patted them both. I’d missed all these dogs for the last few months and to be out here walking with them now was like a dream. I felt tears of joy coming to my eyes.

From behind me came footsteps and my husband’s voice calling my name, ‘Casey? Are you all right?’

I nodded and wiped my face.

‘I thought you were behind me. I didn’t mean to go off like that! Are you tried?’ he questioned.

‘Not really. I was just looking at the countryside,’ I replied.

My husband sit down and I put my head on to his shoulder. He slipped an arm around me and I put my hand to his chest. I shut my eyes and for a few moments listened to his breathing and the rustle of his coat. He put his other arm around me, hugging me tightly. He smelt better to me then any countryside ever could.

‘I should get you home, you’re shaking,’ he said softly.

I felt more tears in my eyes and nodded into him without saying anything.

I still had along way ahead of me to go but I was going to get there.

 

(Inspire by; https://scvincent.com/2018/03/15/thursday-photo-prompt-ahead-writephoto/ with thanks).

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Dear Diary #42

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Dear Diary,

February is here at last! January seems to have lasted forever, probably because I spent most of it being ill. I would like to say I’m feeling better today but it seems I have a cold – been sneezing, coughing and got a sore throat again. I blame the weather! Last night it snowed again and it wasn’t meant too.

I stayed up waiting to see the super blue moon and it wasn’t until 1am that the clouds cleared enough. I then wasn’t impressed! I thought the moon was going to be huge and bright, well it was bright but not as much as I thought it would be. Maybe the bad weather had something to do with that. The photos from America of the added Luna eclipse looked really good and the moon was so massive!

It’s almost 5pm now and I should start making dinner, but I’m not hungry. My new diet is basically not eating which I hear is the wrong way to go about it but on the other hand the book I’m reading says to eat only when you are hungry….So, its a Catch 22. I should really read the novel at some point. Everyone knows that saying but not may know where it comes from.

But I’m on a book buying ban this year! Promised hubby I wouldn’t and the flat is bursting at the seams with everything. This year we should be able to get a house. Thinking that looking in the next few months is a good idea. Our own real place finally! Then maybe I could suggest the ‘b’ word again….Oh, to be like all my other friends and have a little spawn!

I get ahead of myself diary. New job first – I’m so tried of being everyone’s slave at the office. I’ve been applying for lots of things and I get interviews for a three places next week. Hopefully one of them will work out. Perhaps, I’d then find the time to start doing some writing again. Finally get that novel idea into reality?

I’m far too dreamy today! Must be this cold and the weather, though there’s no snow outside now and it’s sunny for a change! Hubby will be home soon, so I must figure out what we can eat. Or at least him…

Till tomorrow then!

Lovers #SundayPhotoFiction

20 Eric Wicklund January 28th 2018

The statue in the garden always caused arguments. Some of the family liked it, the other half hated it but I loved it and the sweet sad story that went alongside.

Great granddad Joe had gotten it made after his wife, Arabella, had died but the cemetery owners wouldn’t let the statue become great grandma’s gravestone. So, he placed it in the garden and had her buried there instead. He then joined her ten years later.

Arabella had been a famous ballerina and Joe saw her perform one night and knew he had to make her his wife. They were married forty years and had eight children but for the last ten years of her life Arabella was wheelchair bound. She had fallen off a horse and broken her back. All she ever wanted to do afterwards was dance again but being unable, Joe would pick her up and dance with her in his arms.

The statue was a tribute to this but also a symbol of true love. Every time I saw it, I was reminded how powerful and pure love could be. It was my hope that one day I’d met a man like great granddad Joe.

 

(Inspired by; https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2018/01/28/sunday-photo-fiction-january-28th-2018/ with thanks).

Spider Web #FridayFictioneers

It was hard to believe that an actual spider had made such a large web over night. That’s why I thought it was a joke at first; my wife hanging the Halloween decorations early. On closer inspection it was real though.

‘Don’t touch it!’ my wife shouted from behind me, making me jump and spin.

‘I wasn’t! I was only looking!’ I countered back.

‘Good, because it’s staying.’

‘Well, I guess there’s lots of other windows to look out of…’ I muttered.

‘I wonder what the spider looks like?’ my wife said.

And then I felt a tickling on my neck…

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/01/10/12-january-2017/ with thanks).

Dear Diary #41

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Dear Diary,

It’s the first day of a new year and everything has gone wrong all ready! This morning there was another leak in the caravan and the rain was coming down so hard there wasn’t much we could do. We just put another pan down and spent another day bailing water out of the caravan.

I’ve been huddled up in the bed, coughing my head off and sneezing for hours. I can’t get warm and I’m just so fed up. Phone signal is terrible and I don’t think they’ve heard of the internet on this stretch of coastline. I’m too tried and frustrated to read or focus on anything else. I’ve been napping then watching the rain and the wind.

Noah went out for a walk somewhere in the afternoon. He’s sick of my moaning about leaving and returning home. He thinks it’s great out here, escaping from everyone else and the madness of New Year celebrations. Really he’s the mad one! This barren campsite in the middle of nowhere isn’t anyone’s idea of ‘escaping’, no matter how much money we saved!

When he came back, soaked through and in need of new clothes and warmth, he tried to take a shower. There was no hot water! He was muttering about for ages and then give up saying this part of something had broken and he couldn’t fix it. He did though changed his clothes and make a pot of tea.

We sat in silence drinking. The rain falling so loud it was like being inside a drum. I swear I heard rumbles of thunder too. Having run out of energy to argue, he sat at the table reading and I carried on my longings out of the window. All I could think about was being home, dry and warm, tucked up in bed and knowing I wasn’t in this horrid caravan anymore!

Then Noah declared he was going to cook us some food. From the bed, I give him simple instructions and all was going well until I noticed the smoke trickling out of the oven! A lick of flame quickly followed and I just knew that all was lost.

To his credit, Noah jumped into action and some of the food was saved but the oven wasn’t. It was a good job the whole caravan didn’t set a lit! I felt a bit warmer afterwards but the smoke got too much and we had to open all the windows and go to stand in the awning.

I had coughing fit after coughing fit. Nothing seemed to stop it. Finally, half collapsed on a folding chair, I was able to get back together again. I wanted to give Noah, a piece of my mind, but I didn’t have the energy for that.

Moving back in, the caravan still smelt smokey but the air was cleaner. Noah tidied up and I got ready for bed as best I could. Then we both started settling down. The rain is still pouring and dripping through the cracks. Noah has started coughing badly too and though he blames it on the smoke, he’s coming down with the flu too.

Perhaps, in the morning I could try again to change his mind and we can go home I day early. Oh, to be in my nice bed again and not have to worry about anything! That really isn’t too much to ask for is it?

Dear Diary #40

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Dear Diary,

It’s here! It’s HERE! December has finally come and with it the count down to Christmas! I raced home from work today and got as much stuff out of the attic as I could. Joe said I should have waited for him. It was dangerous to balance on the ladder and lower the heavy boxes, but I said I only got the light ones that I could drop easily. I pointed out that two boxes were actually filled with new stuff and hadn’t been in the attic.

Joe did the whole muttering and rolling eyes, but I know he doesn’t really mean it. He’ll soon be just as caught up in things as I am! I put some Christmas music on and we got the rest of the boxes down. We unpacked everything, got the tree out and set that up before the living room window. We decorated it together, going with a theme of silver and red this year. I let him put the star at the top to cure his grumps. Then we held a switch on and it was just so magical!

We put lights inside the front windows, the door, the dinning room window and our bedroom window which faced the front of the house. I found places for the ornaments, the sweet jars and the Nativity. Joe hung up the holders for the cards and some more decorations from the walls and ceilings.

It was late when we stopped and yet there were a few things left to do. Joe declared it drink and snack time whilst watching a movie. He let me pick and of course I choice Jingle All The Way, I know he secretly loves that one!

I just wish we had a fireplace. That would make everything much more better. I told that to Joe again and he said the normal when we move house. That really can’t come soon enough for me! But it’s a couple of years off still as we save up again. I like our little house though, especially right now as it seems fitting for a place in Santa’s Town! One day though I hope my dream home comes true.

Bonfire Sparks

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I hadn’t been feeling well all week but I wasn’t about to let it stop me from going to the bonfire night party.  I hadn’t been to one in years and the idea of seeing a professional firework display and spending the weekend with my boyfriend was just too good to miss.

Making sure I wrapped up warm and had everything I needed, we set off and walked to the park. There were huge crowds all ready and the smell of hot food swamped the air. I held my boyfriend’s hand tightly. We walked around, pushing our way through people who were gathering before a circled off area.

I saw they were waiting for the bonfire to be lit. I could see the pile of wood raising against the the dark sky. We found a place to stand and joined the crowed watching as some men light the kindling wood at the base. The flames were bright orange, red and yellow and they took to the dry wood quickly. Loud cracking and popping sounds joined the voices of the crowd.

We stayed for awhile, the fire growing and the heat becoming stronger. My boyfriend then moved us off to place where the fireworks display was going to be. There was all ready a mingling of people there, trying to get a good spot. That seemed silly to me because we’d able to see the fireworks from anywhere in the park. We stood before the rope and looked at the men who were doing some checks.

People began to press against us, loud voices and laughter surrounded us. I took deep breaths but it didn’t help. I felt unwell and just wanted to get out. I tugged my boyfriend’s arm and got him to lean down so I could tell him this.

He looked unhappy but we forced our way out of the crowds. We walked away and I felt better. The air was cleaner and cooler. We walked up a hill and joined a few other people who where there. Sitting down on our coats, he rubbed my back and talked softly to me. Thankfully, the tail end of my illness stayed to fade again.

The first firework screamed through the air and give off an ear shattering pop. I snapped my head up and the bright multi-colours dazzled me. Another firework shot up, exploding in front of the first and adding more colour to the sky.

‘Oh!’ I cried.

More fireworks went off, covering the sky in a wash of colours and deafening everyone with their music. I was enraptured and found it hard to take my eyes away. Then my boyfriend was calling me and tapping on my shoulder.

‘I’m watching this,’ I told him, unhappily.

‘I know, but I have to ask you something.’

I turned to him and noticed he was on one knee beside me. I frowned and then I spotted the small box in the palm of his hand. It was open and there was a silver ring glittering in the flashing lights.

‘Will you marry me?’ he asked.

The smile that light up my face was brighter then any firework that night.

Day and Night

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We were like day and night, totally opposite each other but yet bound together. She was everything I wanted my wife to be and I was everything she wanted in a husband, but we were too different and so it didn’t last.

I’m reminded of her everyday as the sun sets and the moon claims the sky. She told me we were like them; lovers who should be together but could never be. For if the sun and the moon ever did join, what would happen? There’d be no official day and no official night thus upsetting the balance of life.

She decided to leave, thinking it was for the best because she had seen hints if how toxic we could be. I disagreed but she went in the night and I was unable to stop her. Now, I’m chasing after her like the sun does the moon, hoping we can figure things out.

 

(Inspired from; https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2017/09/23/weekend-writing-prompt-21-day-and-night/ with thanks).

Breakfast #FridayFictioneers

Humming to himself, he cut some slices off the loaf of bread. Then he paused, spotting the heart shaped hole in one of the slices. He frowned then with a shrug, put all the slices in the toaster and carried on with preparing the breakfast.

When it was done, he took everything upstairs  and placed it on the bed before his new wife.

‘As promised,’ he said, ‘and look at this…’ he picked up the slice with the heart shape, ‘it was like this when I cut it. Do you think it’s a sign?’

‘For sure,’ she replied and kissed him.

(Inspired from; https://rochellewisoff.com/2017/09/13/15-september-2017/ with thanks)

Fading #writephoto

The storm was fading and the sky looked peaceful once more. Casey had her doubts though. This suddenly burst of autumn weather wasn’t to be trusted. She pressed her head against the wall and looked through the collection of rain drops on the window. She could see a hazy outline of the sea and the docks. Working boats rocked on the still violent waves.

Casey’s fingers curled the corners of the book resting against her drawn up knees. It had been a day like this, five years ago, that she had lost her family on. They had taken their boats out to drag in their nets before a storm had hit. Casey had been ill and had to stay home which had saved her life. Though some days, she wished things had been different.

Turning away from the window, she looked up above the fireplace in which a fire was burning brightly and wrapping warmth around her. A painted portrait of her family hung there, dating back eight years or so ago. There was her mother and father, dressed in their Sunday best clothes and not their working clothes which Casey always remembered them in.

Mother was smiling, happy to be doing something exciting. Her curling blonde hair was down and she looked years younger. She was also holding a blanket wrapped baby in her arms which if Casey recalled was her sister Rose who had died at a few months old. Father looked the opposite of mother, he looked stern, proud and a lot older then he actually was because of the hard life he led.

Four children stood in front of them; three boys and a girl, all dressed in their Sunday clothes too. Casey avoided looking at her eight year old self and focused on her brothers. She whispered their names under their breath, ‘Will, Luke and Tom.’ They looked excited and trying to stay still, though it was hard. They had pretty much grown up into young men the last day she had seen them.

Casey turned back to the window as she heard a low rumble of thunder. A new storm was starting up and the sky was becoming dark once more. Rain splattered the window then began falling down in sweeping pattern. The lighting flashed and Casey’s fingers tightened on the book so that the corners and edge left an imprint in her palms.

There was a knock at her door. She let the book fall from her hands then closed it and slide it under a cushion of the window box. The door opened before she had time to invite the person in. Her uncle’s large framed filled the doorway, his stomach almost bursting out of his white shirt and green waist coat. He smiled at her but then began frowning as he walked across the room.

Casey stood, smoothing out any folds or wrinkles in her long blue and white dress. She clasped her hands and tried to look calm but nervous were over welling her. She give her uncle a bob of respected then avoided looking at him. Not because she feared him or was embarrassed, it was because over the last year her attitude towards him had changed.

‘I hope this dreadful weather clears for your wedding tomorrow,’ he spoke in a gruff voice.

‘I hope so to, uncle,’ Casey uttered.

‘The final preparations will be done this afternoon.’

Casey stole a few glances at him, he seemed to want to say more but was holding back.

He would still rather have wed me off to someone else instead of his son, Casey realised.

‘You will join us for dinner,’ her uncle spoke, ‘some of the guests have already started arriving. Your lack of presence will be noticed if you don’t.’

He shot her a disappointed look then with a sweep of his long black jacket, he turned and left the room. The door clicking shut behind him.

Casey folded into the window box. Holding herself and trying not to cry. Outside the wind howled and threw rain at the window whilst sea waves bashed into boats and the shore. She looked out trying to distract herself but her eyes were drawn somewhere else.

‘This is all your fault,’ Casey whispered looking up at her family portrait, ‘if you had not all died then I would not have to marry my cousin.’

Casey pressed her head into her knees and took some deep breaths. Even though her life was about to change dramatically from fisherman’s daughter to middle class man’s wife, she refused to let her true self fade away.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2017/09/07/thursday-photo-prompt-fading-writephoto/ with thanks.)