Waves

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Everyone flocked to the yellow sands and blue waters as the sun blazed in the sky and the air became stifled with heat. Being in the waves cooled people and pets off whilst giving them a break from normal life. Tomorrow, everything would be back to normal as rain arrived once again.

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Lost #CCC

I hadn’t walked this way in the woods before so the wooden staircase took me by surprised. I went up the rickety steps and followed the path around, wondering where it would led.

The trees blocked out the sky with thick branches and leaves, over grown bushes scratch me and trailing ivy tried to trip me up. I fought through the nature and popped out into a clearance. Long grasses grew up around thirty or forty different stones.

Confused, I looked at one of the stones and realised I was standing in a lost pet cemetery.

(Inspired by; https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2019/08/14/crimsons-creative-post-40/ with thanks).

Comfort Food

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It was crazy, Petra knew but the flu was gripping her hard and the only thing she want was a nice bowl of stew….In the middle of August!

Though, today looked more like autumn, Petra thought as she looked out of the steaming up kitchen window. Gale force winds and heavy rain were blowing the full leave trees and bushes about as if a God was constantly sneezing on them.

Stirring the pot, she peered in, decided that was fine and put the lid on. Petra set the timer for a few hours, not a thing she’d normally do but she couldn’t smell so she couldn’t relay on that to tell her when it was done.

Back in bed, she snuggled down and tried to get an afternoon nap in. She dozed and thought of the tasty, warm, comforting stew bubbling in the pot. Soon, she told her stomach, we can eat and everything will feel better again. Lovely, stew…. 

Trespassing #FridayFictioneers

Benny couldn’t explain his attraction to abandoned buildings. There was a fascination about nature claiming back what had been her’s. There was also the stillness that lay inside.

There were always warning signs but Benny found ways in. He would stay for awhile, soaking up the atmosphere, breathing in the decay and perhaps taking a few things.

This shop had been picked clean and squatters had been in. Benny didn’t mind, there was still enough to be seen. He found a spot to sit, got his sketch things out and began to draw whatever came into his head.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/08/07/9-august-2019/ with thanks).

Monastery #WhatPegmanSaw

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There were so many Buddhist monasteries in Bhutan it had been hard to decide which ones to visit. I marked them on my map and tried to fit one in everyday.

No matter how calm being there made me as soon as I left the darkness crept back in. Heat would prickle my skin, thoughts and voices would crowd my mind. I felt taken over and no longer in control.

My only choice was to remain in a monastery but I didn’t want to be trapped. That’s how the darkness wanted me to be though; one way or another.

 

(Inspired by; https://whatpegmansaw.com/2019/07/27/what-pegman-saw-bhutan/ with thanks).

Dear Diary

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Dear Diary,

My hay fever is so bad! It feels like I’ve got a cold only with the addition of stinging eyes. The tablets don’t seem to be working and of course it’s all easy saying to stay away from flowers and grass but it doesn’t work that way.

I had to phone in work sick again, I just said I had a summer cold, well it’s true enough. I  thought I’d put the time to good use but no, the hay fever won’t let me. If I’m not sneezing I’m coughing or my eyes are watering or my chest hurts to much.

So it’s curling on the sofa, watching daytime TV and feeling sorry for myself. Maybe eating ice cream for my now sore throat.

 

 

The Last Train #FridayFictioneers

They were closing the old steam railway down. It was too expensive to run things and the volunteers hadn’t been able to save it.

People crowded on the small platform, waiting either to see the train or take a ride for the last time.

It was a shame, a true end of an era moment.

Steam billowed out around the old engine train and the whistle blew. It was time to leave the station for the last time.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/07/24/26-july-2019/ with thanks).

The Eyes – Mokumoku Ren

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Hideo dashed through the lashing rain, his wooden clogs slipping on the dirt track, his back weighed down by his heavy travelling pack. He looked desperately around but he was surrounded by abandoned rice paddy fields and there seemed to be no shelter to be had.

He made for the nearest tree which was only just taller then himself. Hideo shivered and wondered how far it was to the nearest village. Trying hard to convince himself that he wasn’t lost, Hideo fell into prayer.

When he opened his eyes and looked down the road, he saw a gate sticking out of the undergrowth. Smiling and feeling like his prayers had been answered, Hideo walked over, the rain and wind whipping around him. He tugged himself through the half open gate and went up what had once been a path which led him to an abandoned house.

Entering, he called out and listened to his echoing voice. Normally he had would have taken off his clogs and left them at the porch but he had no idea what would be on the floors and thought it might be safer to keep them on for the moment.

The abandoned house’s roof was sound and the all the rooms were dry. Hideo went into the front room and set himself up on the floor. He was tried but he had something to eat and drink before settling down to sleep.

The rain hammered on the roof like a banging drum and the wind howled through ripped screen windows. Normally such a racket would have kept Hideo awake but he was so tried sleep came easily.

Sometime time later, something disturbed his sleep and Hideo woke up, he lay in the dark wondering what it was. Thunder rumbled and he decided the storm must have awakened him. Grateful, he had found this abandoned house, Hideo lay down to sleep again but a creeping feeling of being watched prickled the back of his neck.

Muttering that it was just the storm and tiredness, Hideo tried to rest. The feeling wouldn’t go away and seemed to grow until he was forced to give in and light his lamp.

‘I’m sorry for entering your house!’ Hideo spoke in Japanese, ‘I was only seeking shelter. Please let yourself be known. I mean no harm, I am but an old travelling merchant who became lost in the storm.’

Hideo listened to his words faded but heard no reply. He debated getting up and walking through the house, making peace and saying thank you for the shelter. Something flickered out of the corner of his eye and Hideo turned to see a shoji screen behind him.

Another flicker of movement and a human eye was staring at Hideo.

‘Thank you for letting me stay here,’ Hideo spoke and bowed low.

When he looked up again more eyes had joined the first and they seemed to be forming across the screen.

Hideo swallowed and watched as soon the whole screen was taken over by staring eyes.

‘Mokumoku Ren – haunted shoji screen. The first sign of a haunted house,’ Hideo whispered.

Quickly, Hideo began uttering prayers, blessing and thanks, everything he could think of that might keep the spirits of the abandoned house at bay.

Finally exhausted, he collapsed on the floor and fell into a deep sleep.

Sunlight tickling his face woke Hideo. Startled, he looked around, the memory of the haunting eyes hurried him to leave this place. Gathering his thing, he rushed outside then remembered to be respectful and turned back with a low bow to the abandoned house.

‘Thank you for letting me stay. Please don’t haunt me!’ Hideo called.

Spinning around, he ran down the pathway and back onto the dirt road, praying that no spirits followed him.

Castle #WritePhoto

The lake waves lapped at the shore of the island, making the stones on the pebble beach wet. Against a stone grey sky, the dark castle rose up, the towers almost disappearing into the clouds.

The children had been looking for a boat or another way to get across the lake to the castle but they hadn’t found anything. Dipping their bare feet into the cold water, they thought about swimming across.

The oldest three would have no problems, even though it would take them almost an hour to make it. The middle two would have struggled but with help they could have done it. The youngest one though – only seven years old, could not have done it and since none of them wanted to stay behind, swimming was ruled out.

As the boys skipped stones, the girls looked at the castle on the island and wondered what could be in there. A sleeping princess? A handsome knight? Perhaps, treasure guarded by a dragon?

‘There’s nothing in there,’ the oldest boy announced, ‘I went in there last summer and it’s empty.’

The imagination bubble popped, the girls stopped daydream and debated what to do next. The youngest was hungry and wanted to go home, her brother didn’t want to as the boys were building a den in the woods. The girls not interested in this, decided to pick wild fruit and nuts.

By the time they all meet on the lake shore again a faint drizzle had started. They looked over at the castle but could barely see it in the dim light and low clouds which had come down like fog. It seemed the castle had become ghost like with just a faint outline left behind.

‘We should go,’ the oldest girl spoke.

‘Fine, take my sister with you. We are going to swim across and spend the night in the castle,’ the oldest boy replied.

‘That’s not a good idea.’

The oldest boy shrugged, ‘I’ve done it before.’

‘And what if….’ the oldest girl trailed off.

‘You are all chickens!’ one of the other boys shouted.

A brief argument started then the girls stormed off and left three boys to swim across the lake.

 

Days later, police entered the castle looking for the missing boys. Inside, just as the oldest boy had claimed, the castle was empty. The police searched the lake and the woods but the boys were never seen again.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2019/07/11/thursday-photo-prompt-castle-writephoto/ with thanks).

Plug In #FridayFictioneers

Maggie stopped in the middle of the high street and stared at the new sculpture.

‘What’s it suppose to be?’

Bright red, blue and yellow cables with plugs reached to the sky as if a giant had just dropped it.

‘They call this art?’ Maggie scoffed, ‘what’s wrong with a nice naked man?’

She tugged her wheeled bag and shuffled off, still muttering to herself, ‘it’s all this technology rotting the brain. Makes you unable think for yourself. Well, not me! They’ll never get me…..’

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2019/07/10/12-july-2019/ with thanks).