Storm #writephoto

The remains of the tower rose in the distance. It was hard actually to call it a tower now because it just looked like a lump of rock on the grassy hillside. It was the place Rhys and Ffion always met at and had been since they were children.

Today, Ffion had arrived first. She entered the tower and sat down on some stones  crafted into a bench. Above, someone had built a roof and blocked off what had been a spiral staircase. It was a freezing but sturdy little shelter.

Ffion listened to the strong gusts of wind blasting around this Welsh hill and the rain spray soaking everything. There was no warmth to be had in the tower but at least she was out of the elements.

She was bundled in a winter coat, hat, scarf and gloves with a heavy thick knitted jumper and thermal long sleeved t-shirt underneath. Also, she wore  woollen leggings, a long grey skirt and ankle boots. Not the normal clothes of a winter hill walker.

Ffion tried to stay warm and not let the guilty thoughts creep in. Her excuse to her husband and children had been an afternoon meeting friends for coffee. Instead of driving into town, she had come out here and parked the car at the bottom of the hills.

Ffion had followed a rough path up to the tower for an hour trying to think only of Rhys. Would he be waiting already? What would he been wearing today? Had his wife finally forced him to shave off his beard which I so love? 

Shifting her numbing body on the bench, she looked at the moss covered stones and distracted herself by counting. She reached forty then heard footsteps outside. Standing up quickly, Ffion saw Rhys enter the tower and she rushed to him.

The hugged tightly, despite their clothes being damp then Rhys pulled Ffion back inside. They sat on the bench, still embracing and breath each other in.

‘A storm’s coming,’ Rhys said softly, ‘how long did you say you would be gone for?’

‘All afternoon,’ Ffion answered.

Rhys nodded. He took off his gloves and pressed a warm hand to Ffion’s flushed cheek, ‘Fy cariad¹,’ he spoke huskily, ‘dwi wedi dy golli di².’

‘Me too, fy annwly³,’ Ffion gushed, ‘and she still hasn’t made you shave your beard!’

Rhys laughed as Ffion ran her fingers over his thick black beard.

‘I won’t do it. No matter what she says,’ Rhys answered, ‘because I know you love it.’

‘Yes, yes I do!’

Ffion took off her gloves and put her hand over Rhys’ on her cheek. She turned slightly into his palm and nuzzled against him before planting a soft kiss. In return, Rhys pressed his forehead to her’s and tightened his other arm around her back. He dropped his head and pressed his lips to her’s.

‘I can’t wait any longer,’ Rhys groaned.

‘Nor me. Let’s do it,’ Ffion said and kissed him back.

They were quick in their passion because it was cold. Only the necessary clothes were removed and there was hardly any need for a warm up as they were both eager to have each the other. The rhythm of their bodies was in tune, their cries of pleasure masked by the howling wind and they shared the release of desire when it arrived.

In the after bliss they cuddled, listening to the rain pouring down and the steady drip of water coming down the stones of the tower.

‘Rwy’n dy garu di,’ Rhys whispered into Ffion’s hair.

Dwi’ dy garu di hefy,’ Ffion breathed back.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2020/02/13/thursday-photo-prompt-storm-writephoto/ with thanks).

 

 

Welsh Words Translations 

¹Fy cariad – my love

³Fy annwly –  my dear

²dwi wedi dy golli di – I have missed you

Rwy’n dy garu di – I love you

Dwi’ dy garu di hefy – I love you too

Shimmer #WritePhoto

The church bells were ringing the start of a clear winter morning. Roger had taken to wandering outside as soon as he got up, sometimes he found his way home again and other times he had to stop and work the way back.

Today, he was by the lake and the sun was shinning from behind fluffy clouds. The light was reflecting across the water making it shimmer like glitter. Roger watched the small waves lapping the grassy shore. There wasn’t much out here, it wasn’t a place people often came.

There was an island in the middle of the lake, crowed with trees and Roger had been over there and built dens in the summer as a child. He wonder if there was anything left of those makeshift shelters that had become Knights’ castles, caves full of bears and Native American forts.

Above the island rose peaks, cast black by the sun. Had he been over there? Roger couldn’t remember, his head was getting mixed up with old age. He listened to the church bells last echoing ring and walked on. Some birds were singing but everything else was at ease.

He could have walked for days before but now just these hours in the morning tried him out. When the weather was worse, short walks were in order and afterwards, he slipped a little whisky in his tea.

Winter was’t the best season for walking in, so he lit the fire when he arrived home. He sipped his tea and sit in his chair looking out of a front window. The sun was blocked by the roof tops of houses and more clouds were moving in. It would rain soon or snow, it felt cold enough too. Maybe, that was just him?

Roger dozed after finishing his tea and the fire spreading its warm also helped. It was raining when he woke. It had gotten darker too though it was only 2 O’clock. Roger got up on stiff and creaking bones. He stocked up the fire then made half a tin of tomato soup for lunch.

He read afterwards, picking up one of the tattered books on the shelf. He lit a candle to help see by and wrapped woollen blankets around himself. For years, the heating and electricity hadn’t work. The water still ran coming from a underground spring he didn’t have to pay for. He survived by a camping lifestyle in his own home.

It wasn’t the life he had grown up in nor the one he had lived as a younger man. No, it was another sin of being old. The money stopped, yet living had to carry on somehow. This was the best he could do for now.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2019/12/05/thursday-photo-prompt-shimmer-writephoto/ with thanks).

Stormy Day

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I could feel the damp coldness on the window and hear the gale force wind driving the rain. Sighing, I pressed my fevered forehead to the glass. I had wanted to go out today, get some fresh air and pick up a few things. Instead, an open window and rummage through the kitchen cupboards would have to do.

Something warm and furry brushed my fingers then a cool wet tongue licked my hand. My guide dog, Hope, had come to my side. I could hear her tail wagging as I reached out and stroked her head and ears.

‘Looks like another day inside for me,’ I said, ‘though Bob should be around soon to take you out.’

Bob was my next door neighbour, he had a guide dog also and another Labrador. He was only blind in one eye but did have some blurred vision in his left. He liked walks and use to do a lot of hiking.

With having the flu, I had asked him to take Hope out for me. She enjoyed being with the other dogs and having some down time from her job of guiding me places.

I crossed the living room and Hope followed at my side.

‘Alexa,’ I called to the device, ‘what’s the weather like today?’

‘Currently it’s forty degrees, heavy rain, strong winds and cloudy. Tonight, there will be more rain.’

‘Alexa, what’s the weather like tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow it will be forty-three degrees, scattered showers and heavy clouds.’

‘Thanks. I’ll try and go out tomorrow.’

There was a knocking on the door. Hope barked and guided me over, though I knew well enough were my front door was.

‘Kat, it’s Bob,’ he called through the door.

I unlocked things and let him in.

‘Hi,’ I said, ‘is the weather as bad as it seems?’

‘Yes,’ Bob replied, ‘I’m in my waterproofs and wellies. Hello Hope. How’s the flu doing?’

‘Bit better. I wanted to go shopping but might be best if I don’t.’

‘Oh? I can go and get you somethings. I climbed mountains so this weather doesn’t bother me!’ Bob replied and laughed.

‘No, it’s okay. I’ll try later,’ I answered.

‘Well, if you can’t, I really don’t mind.’

‘I know but it’s fine honest. Here’s Hope’s lead. Have fun, girl.’

We said goodbye and I went back into my apartment and to the window again. I opened the window and felt the almost freezing air on my face and arms. The wind was strong and water droplets hit my face.

I was glad Bob was heading outside instead of me, it sure felt horrible out there today.

 

 

 

The Queue #FridayFictioneers

The rain dripped of trees and umbrellas, splashing into puddles as people queued. There was a chatter of voices, rustling from clothes, cars driving passed and an angry raven squawking close by.

I waked by and wondered why there was a queue. I was too shy to ask so kept on walking. The line was long but when I got the front, I still couldn’t see what they were waiting for.

I hoped it was nothing important. Had I missed some voting day or celebrate visit or grand opening day?

No….They were queuing to get Pumpkin Spice Lattes from Starbucks!

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/09/25/27-september-2019-2/ with thanks).

A Rainy Day #MenageMonday

I didn’t like rainy days, it meant staying in and the kids got bored. I had a plan; ‘we’re going to make a circus!’ I told them.

‘I’m going to make my teddies into circus elephants!’ Jewel cried.

‘Can we make a tent for the big top out of sheets?’ Conrad asked.

I nodded and we all hurried around the apartment gathering up what we could.

‘We need some flowers,’ the twins, Letty and Hetty spoke out.

‘Look in the windowbox,’ I called over my shoulder.

Soon, the circus rolled in and we all had a great time.

 

(Inspired by; http://www.caramichaels.com/defiantlyliterate/2019/03/25/menagemonday-challenge-week-2×26/ with thanks).

Pug Face #TwitteringTales

Back from a quick lunchtime walk, both my pug and I were soaked to the bone. We stood shivering in the hallway, wondering why we had risked going outside in monsoon style weather.

Grabbing towels, I wrapped us both up and saw my pug’s face saying it all.

 

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2019/03/19/twittering-tale-128-19-march-2019/ with thanks).

Rainy

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I liked walking in the rain. I enjoyed listening to the noise of water on the roofs of houses and cars, on discard litter, on leaves and umbrellas. Every note was a different sound, coming together to form the melody of the rainfall. That song for me calmed my soul like nothing else could.

I didn’t walk with a destination in mind. I went wherever I fancied with no fear of getting lost. I had explored the streets of this town for years, little had changed.  I crossed roads, went into parks, cut through graveyards with their dark church guardians then over the bridge.

The sound of rain on the river was loud and blocked some of the background town noise. I watched for awhile before turning and heading back home. I felt better, less stressed and calmer. Cold prickled my skin, making my sense of feeling higher, the handle of my umbrella a solid weight in my hands.

Working Air #TwitteringTales

It was a crazy idea, an office set up outside wouldn’t work! Mr.Cooper believed his team would be more productive without the ‘shackled desk’ atmosphere. It did improve things for awhile but then it rained and nobody wanted to work outside anymore.

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2018/10/09/twittering-tales-105-9-october-2018/ with thanks).

 

Autumn Rain #FridayFictioneers

Bob hadn’t be able to offered a new shelter roof after the storm blew it off. He thought at first that his pub’s clients wouldn’t mind just standing outside. Summer was still lingering and the nights were warm and dry. Weeks later, autumn fully arrived, sweeping and washing away summer.

Bob needed a simple and cheap idea to give people shelter. Umbrellas had come to him as he had been watching the rain falling outside. He stock piled boxes full and fixed them across the roof frame. The shelter looked like the stage of a colourful musical but the pub’s clients loved it.

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/09/19/21-september-2018/ with thanks).

Raindrops On Glass #TwitteringTales

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He only came when it rained, coming off the moors to seek shelter. I would sat in the library’s window box, reading by gas lamps. I would try to ignore the sounds of him moving around. I had nothing else to say to him nor him to me. We were ghosts to each other.

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2018/07/31/twittering-tale-95-raindrops-on-glass-31-july-2018/ with thanks).