Growlery #WritePhoto #AtoZChallenge

Growlery; a place of refuge or sanctuary for use while one is out sorts or in ill humour. 

Kip, loud music pumping in his headphones, made his way down to the tiny beach, taking care to step correctly on the massive stones which often had hidden slippy parts. Walking across the rough sand stone mix, he ignored the clusters of tourists that were admiring the views in the little cove area.

He went passed the high waterfall that rushed over the jagged cliff face then streamed along to the sea in a surprisingly deep trench. He head to the largest of the caves far to his right and stood just inside.

More tourists were walking the short distance through the cave to the other side which was blocked by large rocks and the sea waves crashing on them. Most of the people were talking photos and talking, making dim echos along the roof.

Kip sat on his favourite rock that was close to the arched cave opening and was shaped as close enough to a low backed chair as a rock could be. He slipped his headphones off, paused the heavy metal German band he had been listening too. He heard the sea, the waves rushing around and the chatter of voices.

He picked up a small smooth stone and rubbed his fingers across it. He looked around, taking in the rough walls and the patches of sunlight. He knew this place so well. It was nicknamed Merlin’s Cave because the great wizard was said to have lived here underneath Tintagel Castle where King Arthur was born.

Kip loved all those legends and myths, he had grown up surrounded by them. All those knights, princesses, dragons, heroes, monsters, castles and sea adventures, they flowed in his blood just like Cornwall did. As a child he had played at being a knight and now almost an adult he still daydreamed of being one.

Merlin’s Cave though, was where he came to calm down. It was his escape to place and he found a peace here, listening to the rasping sea waves, the waterfall and all the echos in the cave. The tourists he would gladly do without and that’s why he timed his trips here to avoid the bulk of them. Two or three hours before Tintagel Castle closed and making sure the tide wasn’t in was the best time to come.

Living in the town of Tintagel, made access easy for Kip. His parents ran a local pub that often bed and breakfast rooms above and the three of them lived in the attached landlord’s cottage at the back. Kip worked in the pub when he wasn’t at school and he would take over the business in the future. He could never leave Cornwall.

Kip took a few deep breaths and watched the flow of tourists, they reminded him of the sea; always coming and going. Luckily, there wasn’t much of a beach here and no one really sat around or played in the sea for long. There were better beaches to visit for that kind of thing further around the coast. They were all here for the castle really, which stood on the edge of the cliffs, high above, the remaining walls sticking up from the long grass, hinting at a history long lost.

The last of the tourists slowly left, making their way over the massive stones and up the wooden staircase along the side of the cliff. Kip watched them, glad he was alone at last. He knew eventually two staff members would come, checking that everyone was off the grounds and then Kip would have to leave but they all knew him well enough not to hurry him away.

Kip took a few deep breaths and let everything out. He shut his eyes and thought about being carried away by the sea. He was drifting and nothing mattered as everything that he was feeling was gone, carried away on the waves.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2019/04/04/thursday-photo-prompt-threshold-writephoto/ with thanks).

 

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Cocoon #3LineTales

three line tales week 149: a close up of a butterfly

The morning battle began, June wasn’t in the mood, she knocked on her teenage son’s bedroom door to get him up for school then opened the door and took in the mess of stuff scattered around in what little light could enter the room, it was a typical young man’s cave and June felt nauseated by a rising smell of sweat.

‘I’m sick, I’m not going into day and you can’t make me, so there!’ he shouted back from underneath the bedding.

‘Fine,’ answered June, ‘stay like a cocooned bug then and only come out when you have grown up.’

 

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2018/12/06/three-line-tales-week-149/ with thanks).

Dear Diary #49

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Dear diary,

I can’t believe that October is here! September seems to have flown by and taking the last of summer with it. Outside it feels like autumn is settling in now. The leaves on the trees are changing coloring and falling. There’s also been strong wind and heavy wind but most noticeable the fast coming and long nights. I remember during summer, it still being light till nine but now the clock chimes seven and night arrives.

Now normally, I’d be so excited and looking forward to Halloween but I’m not. I just can’t seem to shake off this feeling that something is wrong. I’ve reviewed everything and turned lot over in my head whilst laying in bed these past nights, but I still don’t know where this feeling has come from. It’s like I’ve forgotten something important or there’s something off about my normal self, I’m not thinking right anymore.

I don’t know if I should just let it go or try to figure out more deeply what’s wrong? Maybe, it’s just the full change of the season coming in. I mean, summer has felt so hot and long this year and I guess we’ve all gotten so use to living in what seems to be a more tropical country. Now, it’s back to normal England and everyone is unhappy – expect for people like me who are not a fan of the heat!

It’s also that point of the year when I just feel more alone and fed up. Not for any real reason, it’s just feeling tried and ill all the time. I know it’ll pass and I do really want it to. There’s a lot to look forward to in the next few weeks and months, too much for me to be in this grumpy mood!

 

Mellifluous (Part 1) #atozchallenge

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Mellifluous; sweet and smoothly flowing sound.

It was her favourite thing to do after work. She would sit back, put the headphones over her ears and find some music to suit her mood. Sometimes it would take a few tries, but then she would hit a smooth song that would be sweet to her ears.

She would relax and let the sounds carry her far away. She’d leave everything behind; her troubles, her thoughts, her dreams, her body. She would drift on a cloud of notes, high above everything, where nothing could touch her.

And there she would find it; nirvana.