The Tree #TwitteringTales

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The Druid tree stood bare in a forest full of green. Only when a person of nature magic touched the empty soil at the base would the tree awaken. The branches would fill with green leaves and pink blooms then the trunk would open, revealing the secret grove of the Druids.

(Inspired by; https://katmyrman.com/2018/01/16/twittering-tale-67-the-tree-16-january-2018/ with thanks).

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Crow #writephoto

The crow was out there in the dead tree cawing loudly again. I pressed my forehead to the condensation covered spare bedroom window and searched for him. In the early evening, storm coloured garden, the sooty bird was difficult to spot unless you knew where to look for him.

I forced on the highest branches which were bobbing in the wind and there was the crow. He was silhouetted against the dark grey sky, his head thrown back, cawing continuously. It was hard to tell if he was sounding an alarm or just making a racket to disturb me.

Stepping back from the window, I rubbed my aching head and reminded myself there was nothing I could do about the crow. He was just another problem I’d inherited from my recently passed mother. Turning on the TV to try and cover some of the crow’s noise, I got ready for my night shift on the building site.

When I was ready to leave, I went to the back door which we’d always used as the front door. Yanking down the handle, I tried to rush outside but a black mass flew in my face. I shouted, twisted away and tried to grab the thing. Feathers whipped my face, claws scratched my arms, a sharp beak tried to peck at me.

I stumbled outside, almost tripping on the step. Catching my breath, I turned and looked into the doorway. A single black feather lay there. I peered in and spotted the crow hopping around the kitchen. He was busy making himself at home amongst my mother’s pots, pans, glass bottle collection and tatty books.

Swearing loudly, I slammed the door and left. Getting in my car, I drove to work, my head all full of that damn crow. My mother had made him a pet, having found him as an abandoned chick and now he refused to become wild again. I had tried capturing him and taking him far away and to animal charities but he always ended up coming back.

Arriving at work, I tried to become calm again but it was so hard when I knew the crow would be waiting for me. Taking deep breaths, I went about my shift which thankfully was quiet. I finished at six am though with the dark winter sky and the sun having a lay in, made it seem like it was still the middle of the night.

Coming home, I felt tried and once through the door, the annoyance started again. The crow was waiting for me, perched on the back of a chair. He watched me with beady eyes and I swear if he could’ve spoken English he would have demanded I leave.

Sighing, I pulled up the chair next to him, carefully and sit down.

‘How about we just become friends?’ I suggested.

He put his head to the side, seeming to consider me then give a slight nod.

‘You respect me and I’ll respect you,’ I added, ‘and now I’m off to bed.’

Getting up, I clopped upstairs in my work boots the soft cawing of the crow following me.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2018/01/11/thursday-photo-prompt-crow-writephoto/ with thanks).

Mists #writephoto

He watched the mists rolling across the field and patchy woodland from his bedroom window. He was still in his pajamas, the blue and white stripped ones that his wife had brought him last Christmas. His lower back ached and so did his upper legs, as if he been sleeping on a pebble beach instead of the well worn soft bed.

He did the morning exercises like his doctor had told him too. The bending and stretching helped a little but he’d still need some pain killers to get through the day. Perhaps, he’d take a bath later, if he remembered though he already knew it was going to be another day inside; watching TV, reading, napping, cooking then falling asleep on the sofa.

Watching the mists would entertain him for awhile and if it cleared up maybe he’d go for a walk. It didn’t though. Just like the snow and ice the other day, the mists hung around as if they were happy to be there. He didn’t really mind, it was interesting to see how the mists give everything an out of focus look.

In the evening, it was nice to see that the mists even softened the too harsh Christmas lights coming from other peoples’ houses. He looked at the small tree his daughters and grandchild had set up for him before the front window. The lights were on a timer so he didn’t have to do anything. He and his wife normally put the tree up and placed the children’s presents under for them to open on Christmas day…

This year, he’d be going to stay at his eldest daughter’s for a few days. Then his youngest daughter was bringing her family for New Year’s week. He was looking forward to seeing everyone and having the company. It was going to be just what he needed to being some brightness and colour back into his life again.

 

(Inspired by; https://scvincent.com/2017/12/14/thursday-photo-prompt-mists-writephoto with thanks).

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.

Season Change

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The tree didn’t blow in the wind. It just stood frozen at the end of the field.

Tree House

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As kids we said the tree house was haunted but it wasn’t till we were adults that we found out the truth.

(Inspired by https://katmyrman.com/2017/10/10/twittering-tale-53-10-october-2017/ with thanks).

Old Tree

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The tree stood still with the ghosts of all those had been hanged there drifting forever around it’s tangled limbs.

Cat Life

Black and White Cat in a Tree

In the mornings, he would sit in the tree and watch the village. At lunchtime he would come down, visit three houses for lunch then curl up somewhere warm and quiet for the afternoon. In the evenings, he strolled around till late then mewed at doors till someone let him in.

 

(Story inspired from: https://first50.wordpress.com)

 

 

Christmas Eve

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Willow placed the sweet minced fruit pie on the plate then licked the sugar off her fingers. For a moment, she nearly snatched the pie back and put it in her mouth, but then her mother bustled over.

‘And a carrot for Rudolph,’ her mother announced as she placed the bright orange carrot next to the plate.

Willow looked up at her mum and almost asked the question that had popped into her mind.

‘Now, we need a bowl of water and some whisky…’ her mum said suddenly, ‘Will you get the water?’

With a nod, Willow followed her into the kitchen. Her mum got a bowl, filled it with water and handed it to her. Willow carried it carefully back into the living room and placed it on the coffee table next to the carrot.

She stood for a few moments and took the room in. It was heavy decorated with a real pine tree in the corner draped with multi-coloured fairy lights, shinny red and gold balls, red and gold tinsel and atop was a golden star. The mantel had real holly and berries laying across it and stockings hung up above the fire place. From the ceiling, lights and thin plastic shapes hung down.

Willow’s mother came back in with a tumbler glass half full of amber liquid. She placed it next to the plate.

‘All set. Right, it’s time for bed now. Santa will be on his way.’

‘But mum, why do we need to do this?’ Willow finally asked with a wave of her hand at the carrot.

‘Well….I guess…because it’s tradition,’ mum answered.

Willow stared at her waiting for more.

‘I think that Santa and the reindeer get hungry. They are doing a lot of travelling, so they need the energy.’

‘Then why don’t they stop? Or take food with them?’ Willow asked.

‘They can’t stop, they don’t have time. They have to get around the world in a whole night. Maybe though, Mrs. Claus makes them sandwiches,’ mum answered.

‘Do reindeer eat sandwiches?’ Willow wondered out aloud.

‘Also, we are thanking Santa for coming,’ mum added, ‘and it’s a nice thing to do.’

Willow looked at the coffee table, she wasn’t sure she believed in this anymore.

‘Plus, also,’ her mum said quickly, seeing the still puzzled look on her daughter’s face, ‘Santa has been asleep for much of the year and he’s really hungry.’

Willow frowned harder and looked from the food and drink offerings to her mother.

‘It’s bedtime now, sweetie, come on,’ her mum broke in.

Shrugging and deciding to let this conversation drop, Willow let her mum shoo her from the room. Saying goodnight, first to her father who was sat reading a book in his study then her mother, Willow went to her bedroom and lay on her bed pondering about Santa till she fell asleep.

Downstairs, her mother finished off wrapping presents. As she finished putting them in the stockings, her husband appeared in the doorway. He went to the coffee table and picked up the tumbler of whisky.

‘I don’t think we can pull this off next year,’ she said softly, ‘Willow is asking too many questions and not accepting my answers.’

Willow’s father picked up the mince pie and went to his favourite armchair. He sat down and took a bite out of the pie.

‘We’ll have to tell her. She’s grown up so fast,’ Willow’s mother added.

‘Maybe she’ll figure it out. It’s what we did.’

Standing up, Willow’s mother picked up the carrot and began eating it. In her mind, she was trying to figure out the best way to tell her daughter the truth.

 

The Last Present

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It had been a struggle, but finally, Macy had brought her last Christmas present. Laying spread eagle across the sofa and catching her breath, she heard the muffled sounds of Christmas songs coming from a neighbouring apartment. She tried to guess the song and though it’s tune was familiar without the lyrics she couldn’t recall it.

Getting up, she left her shopping next to the coffee table and went into her bedroom. In a large grey plastic moving box in the far corner the rest of her presents were stored as well as wrapping paper and cards. Macy picked it up then decided to drag it into the living room.

Putting a Disney Christmas movie that she had seen countless times into the DVD player, she began wrapping up presents, labelling them and writing cards. The sound of the movie blocked out the muffled music, but Macy wasn’t watching movie anyway.

About two hours later and Macy placed the last present into the box. Sighing, she collapsed on to the sofa. She shut her eyes and dozed for a few minutes. Then stirring herself awake, she dug out a list from her pocket. Unfolding it, she went through the names, the gifts and the ticks. Everyone and every gift had been brought.

It’s really finally over, she thought, not fully believing it.

Macy looked at her small Christmas tree which was twinkling in the corner. There were a few presents under it all ready. Soon though, she’d be packing them with her clothes and other stuff to go to her parents for the Christmas weekend. She might have only moved out a few months ago, but with her new roommate gone home all ready, Macy didn’t fancy Christmas alone.

‘I should double check,’ Macy spoke aloud to herself.

Finding a pen, she went through the people and presents, making sure to double tick them off the list.

‘Yep, all done. It really is over,’ Macy said, ‘and now I can totally enjoy Christmas.’

 

Thursday photo prompt – Christmas Present – #writephoto