Snail Mail #1LinerWeds

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He misunderstand the term and thought people wrote letters to each other on the shells of snails.

(Inspired by; https://lindaghill.com/2018/08/15/one-liner-wednesday-snail-mail/ with thanks).

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Blurred #3LineTales

I took my new camera to the beach on Sunday and took some photos. They looked fine on the viewing screen but later, on my laptop screen, I noticed that some of them hadn’t come out right. The people were blurred like ghosts, I was disappointed but I did like the effect.

(Inspired by; https://only100words.xyz/2018/08/09/three-line-tales-week-132/ with thanks).

Grartor Party #TaleWeaver

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Molly’s seven year old son, Ben, emptied his school bag on the dinning room table. Molly caught a pencil as it rolled her way then eyed the mess of school books, papers and other items. Ben had a habit of collecting things.

‘What’s this?’ Molly asked picking up a blue envelope.

Ben shrugged and his eyes drifted to the TV in the next room. His three year old, twin sisters were sat before the screen watching cartoons.

Molly opened the envelope and took out a thin slip of paper.

‘Your invited to a grartor party,’ she read aloud slowly.

The handwriting and spelling were clearly a child’s. Molly looked at the name and address at the end, but didn’t recognise them.

‘Who is Riley?’ she enquired.

‘He’s new,’ Ben said.

‘And what’s a grartor?’

‘Don’t know.’

Molly looked at the date, the party was tomorrow. She checked the address again, it wasn’t far from their house and the start time was 2pm.

‘Do you want to go to his party?’ she asked, ‘Ben?’

‘Okay. Can I watched cartoons now?’

Molly nodded and Ben rushed over to join his sister. Molly sorted through the other stuff on the table. She flipped through his work books then piled them to one side, placing on top the book he currently had to read. There was a letter from the headmaster about head lice, a letter from Ben’s teacher about an end of year trip to the zoo and a maths homework sheet due in on Monday.

Molly re-packed his school bag then added things to her calendar. Then she did an internet search to find out what a grartor party was. Perhaps, this Riley was from a different country or religion and grartor related to turning eight or something like that?

The search engine told her it wasn’t actually a word, did she mean something else? Molly scrolled down the suggested websites hoping that it appeared as some kind of new child craze like fidget spinners but there was nothing.

This is why you don’t let a child write their own party invitations! Molly thought.

She looked over at her own children and decided she’d just have to find out tomorrow.

 

The next morning after breakfast, Molly got Ben ready for the party. Leaving her husband with the twins, she took Ben shopping and got a suitable birthday present for Riley. At half twelve, she drove over to the address and parked up.

Letting Ben out, they walked up the steps to the front door of the house. Bright green balloons weighed down behind the two large flower pots, greeted them. A banner over the door read, 8 Today! and an inflatable crocodile lay on the lawn.

‘Are you excited? Molly asked.

Ben pulled a face and clutched the wrapped birthday present.

‘I bet there’ll be cake and jelly and ice cream. Your other friends will be here,’ she pointed out.

Molly rang the doorbell and it was answered by a tried looking man who had a crocodile glove puppet on his hand.

‘Hi, I’m Molly Black. My son Ben was invited to Riley’s party. Sorry, I didn’t reply to the invite, I only found it in his bag yesterday. I hope you don’t mind us coming,’ Molly explained.

The man nodded, ‘Rory James, Riley’s dad. Please come in.’

He held the door, Molly and Ben entered. The house looked freshly moved into. There were green balloons tied everywhere and in the kitchen was a table covered in party food. Rory led them into the back garden were a few children where bouncing on a  green jungle themed bouncy castle and inflatable crocodiles were dotted around. Two woman were stood talking close by, drinking out of wine glasses.

‘I want a go!’ Ben cried, cheering up instantly.

‘Sure,’ Rory answered.

Molly took the present and Ben’s shoes then he ran off onto the bouncy castle.

‘What time should I come and pick him up?’ Molly asked.

‘Oh, you’re not staying?’

‘I’ve left my husband with our twin girls,’ Molly explained.

‘Five, I think it said on the invite. My wife can confirm that. I’ll introduce you then I must get back to finishing off the cake,’ Rory said.

They walked over to the two woman and the one wearing the blue dress with the mass of blonde hair was Rory’s wife, Celina. Rory introduced them then left.

‘Can I get you something to drink?’ Celina asked.

‘No, thanks,’ Molly replied, ‘I must get back home soon, I told my husband I wouldn’t be long. We are taking the twins to the park.’

‘Oh okay.’

‘This is for Riley,’ Molly said handing over the present, ‘I wasn’t sure what to get him. So, I let Ben pick it. Young boys tend to like the same things, I’ve found.’

‘Thank you,’ Celina spoke with a smile and took the gift.

‘What is a grartor party?’ Molly asked.

‘Riley came up with it. He said it meant a great gator. He’s obsessed with alligators!’ Celina laughed.

Molly nodded, the whole green and crocodile theme clicking into place. She talked for a few minutes with other parents who were arriving then she said goodbye and drove home.

At five, she returned and picked up Ben who chatted away about the good time he had had at the grartor party.

 

(Inspired by; https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/08/09/tale-weaver-183-making-sense-of-nonsense-grartor/ with thanks).

 

 

A Summer Storm #WritePhoto

In fields full of flowers we would spend our summers; playing, talking, reading, kissing. Standing at the edge now, I could see her still, running in a flowing white summer dress, the hem brushing the steams of the flowers as her hands trailed across their petals. She was laughing and looking back at me as I chased her.

A soft rain began to fall, darkening my clothes. I ducked under an oak we had used as shelter many times. If I pretended for a few moments, she was on the other side of the trunk, counting as we played hide and seek.

The rain came down harder, dripping through the leaves above. A rumble of thunder echoed across the fields. I shivered and wondered, why had I come back here? Had I really thought she would be here waiting for me? Lightening lit up the grey sky. The hairs on my arms stood up, it was unsafe to stay here.

I began running back to the village, the rain soaking me and the thunder clapping. I was crying, my chest hurt, I felt crushed with wanting what I could no longer have. She was gone forever and she would never run through those fields again.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/08/09/thursday-photo-prompt-summer-writephoto/ with thanks).

 

 

Reflection #FFfAW

She didn’t want to go to the park but she had no where else. Sitting on a bench next to the duck pond, she wondered, how have I hit rock bottom so hard? Wiping tears, she told herself she’d get through. She would find the strength like she always did.

 

(Inspired by; https://allaboutwritingandmore.wordpress.com/2018/08/07/fffaw-challenge-177th/ with thanks).

No Green Grass #FridayFictioneers

The grass is always greener on the other side they say. Well, I looked over yesterday and the grass looked worse; brown with dead patches. The perfect reflection of my current situation.

At my desk, I read through all the job rejection emails and wondered why. Once I’d had no problem finding employment but since being left in a wheelchair due to the car accident, I was experiencing the world differently.

Well, I guess the world will have to experience me differently! I’m still the same brain and being trapped in a less mobile body isn’t going to stop me.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/08/08/10-august-2018/ with thanks).

 

Tea #TwitteringTale

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In the time it had taken to break off the engagement the teapot had go cold. I wasn’t bothered, never be a fan of tea. I picked up a wedge of Victoria sponge cake and ate. Strangely, my mind was clear, it had been the right decision for us both.

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2018/08/07/twittering-tales-96-7-august-2018/ with thanks).

Fairy Hotel #FridayFictioneers

The child pointed at the strange structure against the fence and asked, ‘Grandma, what’s that?’

Grandma looked at the stack of bricks and wood with clay pots and other things stuck in between before replying, ‘it was a fairy hotel.’

‘Was?’

‘It’s fallen apart now,’ Grandma pointed out.

The child pulled at the weeds thoughtfully and said, ‘can we fix it? If it’s pretty again the fairies might come back.’

Grandma smiled, ‘Yes, if we believe they will.’

The child smiled back and together they began working on repairing the hotel.

 

(Inspired by; https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/08/01/3-august-2018/ with thanks).

Track #WritePhoto

Children’s laughter followed as she walked through the woods. The smile on her face grew and she spread both her arms out so that her fingers could brush the moss covered tree trunks and tall bushes.

Summer hung heavy in the air, carrying the heady scent of flowers, enough to drown upon. The low river tumbled passed, eager to get to the seaside. Bees buzzed, birds tweeted, squirrels scampered and the children played.

She felt at peace here. It was far from the busy city and her home, quiet of people but loud of nature. She could be anything she wanted amongst the trees with no one to judge her; a princess or a child again and not the gnarled old maid.

The children were calling, telling her to come back and see what they had found. She hadn’t gone far, not being able to walk well now. She totted back, wondering if they would show her shiny fish or wiggly worms? She reached the pebbly river bank where she had left them but it was empty.

She shut her eyes then opened them again. The ceiling of the hospital glowed white above her. Sirens wailed in the distance and the hush of nurses’ shoes crept along the nighttime corridors.

It hadn’t been real, none of it had.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/08/02/thursday-photo-prompt-track-writephoto/ with thanks).

 

Who? #1LinerWeds

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It was me, I did it and I’m sorry, shame I can’t tell you what happened.

 

(Inspired by; https://lindaghill.com/2018/08/01/one-liner-wednesday-who-who-who-who-who/ with thanks).