This yet another week where to choose one above so many
excellent offerings has me dithering, even though I do know you understand that
not being feted and hailed – or offered so much as a biscuit – is no
indication of less than meriting. We write for the joy of writing, in the hope
of entertaining our peers and to a large extent the accolade is unnecessary.
Except, somehow, it is. But, more important, is the acknowledgement of our
peers, that we have written, have entertained. So this week I
thank you all, and pin the tail on William’s ‘Coming to terms II’.
Words
for next week: fret sea-glass tear
Entries
by midnight (GMT) Thursday 16th April,
words and winners posted Friday 17th
Usual rules: 100 words maximum (excluding
title) of flash fiction or poetry using all of the three words above in the
genres of horror, fantasy, science fiction or noir. Serialised fiction is, as
always, welcome. All variants and uses of the words and stems are fine. Feel
free to post links to your stories on Twitter or Facebook or whichever social
media you prefer.
Well done William, 'Coming to terms II' is such an excellent offering. I enjoyed it very much and re-read it a lot over last week.
ReplyDeleteNice work, William. You have a most enjoyable style.
DeleteGoodness me, I never expected that. Thanks for your kind comments and support. This week has been great for me. I got a gold award for team spirit at work yesterday as well.
DeleteWilliam, congrats on such a well written story.
DeleteMagnificent entry, William. I do believe the quality of writing here just keeps getting better and better.
DeleteYours, William, was an excellent choice for top honors last week. Congratulations!
Deletecongrats, William. Your writing goes for the heart every time. Congrats on the gold award, too!
DeleteThe curious cases of Dr. A. Marie Abernathy, Part 1
ReplyDeleteBeside the stiff’s lacerated heart, the tear-drop shaped blue sea-glass broach lay bloodied in the autopsy table sink. The pathologist fretted when the detective walked in donning a mask.
“Cause of death?”
The doctor nodded at the broach. “It was lodged in her heart.”
“How did it get there?”
“How indeed… not a mark on her.”
“It didn’t get there by itself Goddamnit.”
“One would think not.” The pathologist continued her work.
“Didn’t mean to snap. Get it to the lab pronto.”
“Great idea,” the pathologist said as the lab courier arrived. The nervous technician avoided eye contact and bagged the broach.
Mystery and tension from the start here John. The sharp dialogue captures the edginess of the characters and the prompt words fitted into the first to lines really set the scene. I want to know more.
DeleteWhoops missed the w out of two.
DeleteWell, yes. How DID it get there?
DeleteA dino-mite opening paragraph, John, and such winsome dialog! This no doubt will be a very interesting series.
Deletelooking forward to more of this!
DeleteGoodness what a rich piece, I'm loving this series already and can't wait for the next installment.
DeleteOh, goodie. Another serialization...and such an intriguing one from the very start. I wonder if the "nervous technician" had more than simply pilfering in mind when the broach was bagged.
DeleteWhat a intriguing mystery. Your dialogue flows perfectly with the setting.
ReplyDeleteFret, sea-glass, tear
ReplyDeleteIskaria 11
At her Ceremony of Passing, my mother’s grave next to my father’s, waiting for her bones. My father’s wedding gift, a sea-glass rainbow heart, is now above our headboard.
The Night’s Eyes, teared past, when Averia gifted us with twins.
“Tradition allows mothers to name the first of each gender born.”
Her loving eyes comforted mine as she held our children.
“Salamera for our daughter and Ryan-Malik for our son.”
Over the next several ten-days I completed the making of my arms and armor.
“Fret not Averia, you are in charge until my return, hopefully with my mother’s bones.”
You fitted the prompt words in brilliantly Jeffrey. This serialisation is so enjoyable. I am liking the characters getting along but I do know events are simmering in the background as you have set previous scenes so well. I'm looking forward to the next few instalments.
DeleteThe quest for his mother's bones seems fraught with danger, Jeffrey. I'm anxious to learn how he makes out.
DeleteLike Jim, I am intrigued by the quest for his mother's bones. I liked the sea-glass rainbow heart.
DeleteThe mother's bones appears to be a key to something more. Agree with John nice touch with the Rainbow seaglass heart.
DeleteIn search of a mother's bones would seem to be a noble crusade but things can change on a dime it seems. I like the idea of the mother having the privilege of naming the first of each gender born. Fathers have a nasty habit of choosing such inappropriate names. I know before my daughter was born, her father wanted to name her Yancy if she turned out to be a boy....I mean, Yancy indeed! Come on now!
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 98
ReplyDeleteDecided to give you two interpretations of the word tear
The soldier returned, paws full of tear-shaped leaves and a lumpy root.
Fretfully, Cinereus stowed the root; then, tearing the leaves he pounded them to a paste with his staff and carefully fed a measured amount into the gerbils mouth.
Atlas sniffed the air; Tosca did likewise. Their eyes glinted like sea-glass in the dim light of the dank burrow.
‘Storms dun,’ said Tosca
‘A bit of rain, but, listen, the wind’s died down considerable,’ added Atlas. ‘We kin leave when yur ready.’
Nigel nodded ‘We’ll go the way we cum, Atlas: Got summat stashed there, vital t’ the misshun
Fretfully, such a unique use of that prompt. Your usual standard of good enjoyable writing.
Delete"tear-shaped leaves and a lumpy root" - so simple a pairing of ingredients, but so evocative.
Deleteeyes glinting like sea-glass is a vivid description and a great use for the prompt. Enjoyable take, Terrie.
Deletedefinitely cutting edge dialogue from the 'dillos this week.
DeleteI so love "Their eyes glinted like sea-glass in the dim light" such an original use of the prompt.
DeleteMagnificent scene-setting and sharp dialogue, as always...not to mention those ever present descriptions that are most definitely delicious eye-candy.
DeleteGathering magic – 10
ReplyDeleteThe child ate juicy, tear-drop, fruits he’d gathered and Batt silently considered the situation.
What will happen, he thought, when she discovers she can tear the fabric of time and place at will? He shivered at the notion. The sea-glass, thin-edged, curtain controlling those was fragile enough, without her untrained probing.
He pitied the child, brimful of magic, skewed of knowledge and understanding, with no family or guidance.
Horrified by the task ahead, he sighed, fretfully. Could he point her in the right direction, would she listen, and if she did, even for a little, could he keep his skin?
What a lovely, seductive description of the child.
DeleteIf he truly values his skin, it's likely that Batt should put some distance between himself and this child. Her magic is nothing to mess with.
DeleteTo know what Batt knows about the power this misguided child possesses would be quite a burden. But I believe Batt will not abandon her and will attempt to provide direction, despite the pending consequences.
Deletevery vivid depiction of the child and the strange talents she has, waiting on more with impatience.
DeleteYou had me at "The child ate juicy, tear-drop, fruits" I was back in my pram craving fruit pastilles, and believing impossibilites.
DeleteThis is a child that desperately needs guidance and yet, I'm fearful for the one who would come forward to teach her. I seem to remember a sweet called something like "Juicy Fruits" when I was a child....or maybe it was chewing gum. In any event, I recall how tasty the flavor. I plead for Batt for maintain some semblance of distance. He is walking a knife edge at the moment.
DeleteI guess that keeping your skin would be high on the survival list. You've a very good ability with narration to set a scene.
ReplyDeleteFret, sea-glass, tear
ReplyDeleteThe Council of Canossa 8: Easter Sunday
The cathedral bells rang at Prime, the first hour of the day. Albornoz and Vincenzo entered his Holinesses room, with water and sponges so he could wash. The sun’s rays were tearing through the window, where Innocent VI was standing. He turned toward them, the sea-glass crucifix he was wearing, glistening in the morning light. They were stunned. The Pope had become like Moses, the papal robe he had on, reaching his feet. His hair had turned white, like lamb’s wool or new snow.
“Fret not my friends, it’s a blessed Easter morning. I’m renewed of spirit and purpose.”
Beautiful incorporation of the prompt words Jeffrey and what a brilliant line 'His hair had turned white , like lambs wool or new snow.'
DeleteVindication for his holiness that his visons have been real and a great lead into the next instalment.
It sounds as if something biblical is happening here. A little different than the goings on in today's Church.
DeleteExcellent use f prompts and invocation of the suggestion of purity of spirit
DeleteThis to me was reminiscent of a scene in Godfather III. Nice incorporation of the prompt words and some very appealing visuals.
DeleteThe Water, Like a Witch’s Oils
ReplyDeleteWe drifted sluggishly into still waters. The ominous moan of the wind like the mournful dirge of the drowned.
A one eyed crewman fingered the frets on his Spanish guitar. He claimed his plectrum was the frozen tear of a mermaid. It may simply have been sea-glass.
The captain tapped out his pipe. “You regret your decision to seek passage aboard the Anchor of Anubis?”
“Not at all,” I lied.
Something grotesque surfaced momentarily on the swell. I blinked it was gone. The captain reached calmly for his harpoon gun. Dread seized my bones.
This is so good David both the title and the wonderfully crafted sentences. I was hooked by the title and the first line immediately created suspense. The second paragraph reeled me right in to the end. Great incorporation of the prompt words. Perfect.
DeleteWhat good opening lines! They set the scene and stage very well for the rest of this tense story.
DeleteGosh, this so delicious, both in words and intent.
DeleteDrat, I had hoped Sandra had missed this on. David, if someone had offed me a hundred dollars to not finish this after the second paragraph, I probably would have taken it, but not without regret. Very well done.
DeleteSomething more ominous than dread may soon be seizing your bones, David. You splendidly create a suspenseful atmosphere.
Deletedescriptive and brooding at the same time. Classic D Turnbull writing...
DeleteSuch a rich piece of writing, sir I doff my cap.
DeleteHow very nicely composed. Full of atmosphere and hints of the sinister. This has a most mythological feel to it.
DeleteOh my what a last line! Perfectly lead up to by the lines that set it up.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comment, Jeffrey, but I noticed an omission, corrected and reposted below.
DeleteStumped
ReplyDeleteThe boy was good-for-nothing. Always had been. His first swindle was the sale of worthless coloured sea-glass as rare hard-to-find marbles. As he got older, his desire for wealth at any cost became paramount.
He burglarized homes of the elderly and cared nothing if the occupants got in his way. He was violent. He lied. He would eventually cause serious harm, perhaps even a fatality. It was though he had no conscience. He had to be stopped.
The boy had brought about enough fretting and tears to last a lifetime.
With a heavy heart, Geppetto started the wood chipper.
As Jeffrey said above what an excellent final line. I always look forward to your twists on the traditional tale Patricia.
DeleteWell, the blatant mendacity of little "long-nose" finally caught up with him. Your creativity continues to astonish, Patricia!
DeleteYikes! aother unwanted image floods my mind's eye.
DeleteJiminy Cricket, that was entertaining. Would there be any legal repercussions for chipping up a wooden boy?
DeletePatricia, how do you do it?????????? utt3er brilliance, so it is.
DeleteI have literally snorted hard Cider through my nostrils, and it burns. Being locked in with three of my own, this piece was both curative, and restorative.
DeleteChange of focus [372]
ReplyDeletePhilly Stepcart’s stare was forensic. Aggressive. Her opinion of the police matched Pettinger’s of the press. Yet, like him, when faced with a single member of that profession, she took individual merit into account.
‘Inspector’ You have eyes the colour of sea-glass. But, I suspect, not so hard. Did you shed tears for Dodger when you saw the mess they’d made of him?’
‘No. Emotion blinds. We need to see, to think, without obstruction. Feeling clutters thought. Seeking justice, for whoever, demands our full attention.’
Her face still disbelieved. Softly, ‘Fret not, Inspector. I’ll make sure Dodger gets that.’
Kindred spirits with what seems to be a common purpose. Your use of sea-glass was unique and well done. The first line was the best.
DeletePhilly has Pettingers's number, I think. And I don't think Pettinger minds one bit. Nicely done, Sandra.
Deleteclever use of the prompts and another tantalising instalment
DeleteThe press seeking justice, now Philly is one of a kind.
DeleteNice exchange of dialogue, almost a back-and-forth banter really. I do believe I like this Philly Stepcart, whose name continues to fascinate.
DeleteFret, sea-glass, tear
ReplyDeleteThe Janus Door VII
Tatius Sabinus explained his idea to Caseo.
“Good Caseo, fret not your gravitas, there’re stones for a crude kiln and molds, wood for tools, and I can fashion a blow pipe. Sand is at the nearby beach and natron is but hand-full of stade away, where the stream widens before the cliff.”
“One child to help and learn from you. Don’t tear through it and teach him well, Tatius. What will you call this speculum?”
“What I’ll use was Neptune’s bounty, I’ll call it sea glass.”
oOo
Serator Oceanus was gathering wood, when called.
“Yes, Anthony.”
"Sir, look at this animal track. "
Sea-glass was a challenge with a story that takes place in ancient times, but you pulled it off. Looking forward to finding out what animal made this track.
DeleteBravo. As john said the challenge was met and conquered.
DeleteMust to admit, there were many words in this piece that were beyond my comprehension, but they worked very well, nonetheless. Your command of classical language and situations very often transcends, Jeffrey.
Delete[Threshold 296]
ReplyDeleteI raised my chin. Banished fear. Strode, bold and steady as I could, towards the entrance. Summoned optimism to shine from my eyes like long-immersed sea-glass, sand-rough and sea-washed to shapelessness but hopefully still beautiful; would-be tears well-battened.
The darkness of the interior caught me unawares. Echoed shoutings of the crowds within battered my ears: weeks of silence left me vulnerable to noise.
But I identified his voice.
I looked up.
He’d descended part-way from the roof and now stood, face fret-shadowed from a window; expression impossible to read.
‘You came.’
Near as impossible as the tone of his voice.
Those two opening lines, short but for me visual scene setters that carried through the story, a foundation you built on.
DeleteYou have quite a way with these reunions when her and Raven reunite. I envision a passion filled episode coming soon.
Deletehere's the slightly mellower but just as dramatic Sandra at her best.
DeleteYour beautiful use of language, Sandra, drew me along like a mule chasing a carrot stick. SO well done!
Delete"You came" could mean so many different things. I'm hoping for a tilt to the romantic side but with an expression "impossible to read," I guess we'll have to wait impatiently for the continuance.
DeleteThe Secret Armadillo Soldier (SAS) Diaries - entry 99
ReplyDeleteThey ran until night blew into a more forgiving day and rain misted their scales.
A damp wind fretted at the sea-glass sky; tearing clouds and throwing them, like small tears, across the spread of widening, watery, blue.
Armi’s companion slowed, ‘not far now,’ she puffed.
Pain had crippled his voice; but he managed a low grunt of assent.
She snouted the air and stopped. ‘I left ‘em ‘ere,’ she said, ‘gotta track em now.’
They set off slowly, snouts low, and scenting.
Armi knew they were nearing the old library then, unexpectedly, he caught the whiff of something familiar.
All so precise ad evocative, but I especially enjoyed "Pain had crippled his voice".
DeleteLike Sandra, the words Pain had crippled his voice struck me as particularly well crafted, but such is your trademark, Terrie. Beautiful writing!
DeleteSometimes I forget these characters are armadillos. Then when she snouted the air, I remembered. There's that scent again. Looking forward to episode 100.
Delete99 and counting, and another good instalment
Delete"A damp wind fretted at the sea-glass sky"
DeleteI know I often quote back lines of your work, but I am oft in search of the words to express my delight and admiration.
Oooohhhh...the "whiff of something familiar." That could be almost anything really. Of the 'dillo offerings this weeks (each one a treat in its own right), I do believe this is my favourtite. Dare I hope there might be one more below?
DeleteSea-glass sky, nice use of that prompt and a enchanting visual prase.
ReplyDeleteEchoes of misdeeds
ReplyDeleteIn Orkney, last September, on a day when wind and rain tore clouds to frayed and fretful shreds, we abandoned our intended walk and drove instead to the Deerness distillery.
I’m more a whisky drinker than a gin but I’d been seduced by the swirling wave-like lines which decorated their Sea-glass gin.
We bought a bottle, drove cliff-wards; listened to the cricket in a sunnier part of England.
And I tried to put from my mind the long ago memory of drinking far too much of some more commercial blend and calling off my wedding.
[True story: see https://www.deernessdistillery.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Sea-Glass-Gin-70cl.jpg]
Thank you for sharing and the voices of Ann Margaret and Bob Hope filling my mind.
DeleteJeffrey - should I apologise?
DeleteNot at all. A good memory from the days of my youth.
DeleteWhat better reason to abandon a walk then to visit a distillery. Let's hope the cancellation of your wedding turned out to be good for you in the long run. Thanks for sharing your memory.
DeleteJohn, 'cancellation' turned out fine - he said I was talking bollocks, refused to listen and and has continued to do so for the past 53 years. :-)
Deletethis non-drinker stands back in astonishment at the clarity of this memory - and was drawn into it regardless of the alcohol content...
DeleteA lovely tale, made all the more perfect by 53 years of bliss. As a result I just asked alexa to play Something changed by Pulp. When I first spoke to my lovely wife of 20 years she told me to get lost, the next time I spoke to her bolstered by the fact she might know who I was she was more receptive, turns out she had no idea she had spoken to me before.
DeleteOur eldest is 19 this year, our twentieth is in december anniversary is in december. I'll let you do the maths, I know from the scowls of my religious family members at the wedding that they did. ;)
DeleteSuch memories are truly precious and should be cherished. Thank you so much for the sharing, Sandra.
DeleteIn A Bow Window
ReplyDeleteHe finally tracked it down. Often fretted it would remain lost. But, there it was behind the dimpled curvature of a tatty pawn shop next to a sea-glass collection labelled "Mermaid Tears."
Fortunately, the elderly proprietor had no idea of its significance and sold it for a pittance. In truth, it had been on display for decades and the old gent was delighted to see it go. Damn thing always had given him the creeps.
Leaving the premises, Jack dropped the scalpel into his medical bag, adjusted his top hat and with a merry whistle, strolled down the fog-shrouded alley.
Oh, what a story and a murderer looking for trinkets from a victim.
DeleteAnd now the legend can move on to more important work. Very clever there, Patricia.
DeleteAh ... an unknown snippet from a better-known story.
Delete'Strolled down the fog-shrouded alley' and into infamy. Nicely done, Patricia.
DeleteI like Mermaid's Tears better than plain sea-glass. This is a good piece, Sandra!
DeleteOo that gave me the shivers
DeleteFret, sea-glass, tear
ReplyDeleteUmbrae Calling 6
“What do you want?”
“For you to become all that you’ve forgotten you could’ve been.”
“Ahh, this is where I lose my soul.”
“Contrary to religious books and bad movies, your soul can’t be sold, so stop fretting about it. That rainbow shaped sea-glass like thing can become tarnished, and that’s what I want to prevent.”
“How?”
“I’ll help you with information about many things, concerning you.”
“And you get, what?”
“The satisfaction of you not tearing the bond between us, again. You’ve an apple in your hand, take a bite, and tell me what you want to know.”
You can't sell your soul? There goes my retirement strategy. A lot of cool little tidbits in this. Well done.
DeleteIs that wicket serpent up to his old tricks? That's the impression I got while reading this thought-provoking entry, Jeffrey
DeleteYou type a fine hand of writing it has to be said Jeffrey. I'm with John my retirement is shafted too.
DeleteThis has something of a creation reference to it...maybe it's the mention of an apple. As always, your pieces that consist solely of dialogue are definitely your forte.
DeleteTHE SHADOW SERIES: TRANSMOGRIFICATION
ReplyDeleteYou awoke suddenly, and I, startled, slipped from you into the darkness of the room. Something fretful, I suspected, had seized you. I watched you spring upright, and my puzzlement increased while observing your widening eyes and trembling hands. Sweat blossomed on your face and was transmogrified by moonlight into tear-shaped beads the color of ivory sea-glass.
Then I knew. That demand you lovingly loathe had finally found release.
I smiled and eagerly reentered you while you dressed in dark clothing. You wore gloves and I was impressed by your attention to detail.
Minutes later we were hunting as one.
Such emotional descriptions and for me I did see a transmogrify...of the shadow, from parasite to symbiote. As usual no disappointment in my enjoyment of this series.
DeleteHunting as one now. Even though I suspected this was coming, it was quite a shock. You did this very nicely, Jim. Bravo. You and David are making it tough on Sandra this week.
DeleteWell, yes, John has it aright, and what a useful word, 'transmogrify'
Deletewow, what a story for this week! and yes, transmogrify is one hell of a good word to remember... now to find a story to wrap around it...
DeleteOh goodness where can I go without sounding all gushy. An excellent episode that had me transfixed.
DeleteAnd the metamorphosis would appear to be complete...or almost anyway. I agree with the comments above. What a wonderful word is "transmogrification" and all its associated parts. I wonder if the melding is now possible to be separated.
DeleteTit for Tat
ReplyDeleteThe weathered sea-glass hawker displayed his wares on the boardwalk as the coolness of the day transported customers from the beach.
“Did you find these yourself?” said a shapely woman with a convenient tear in her aqua cover-up. She studied his roaming, fretted brow.
“My hobby, yes.”
She considered a large blue specimen and opened an empty wallet. “How much?”
“Fifteen dollars. But please, accept it as my gift.”
The stiletto pierced his heart effortlessly and she covertly lowered him beneath the table.
“I’m not a goddamn charity case,” she said, sashaying away with the trinket in hand.
Talk about a clever and totally unexpected ending... you nailed this one, John!
DeleteYe gods and ... what an ungrateful, up-herself bitch!
DeleteUnfortunately, no good deed goes unpunished. An definite unexpected ending and a well done story.
Deleteabsolute shock ending, not easy to do and you did it well.
DeleteWell demonstrated that the road to hell is paved with good intent.
DeleteWell, talk about looking a gift horse in the mouth! She must have had a very bad day prior to meeting up with this hawker to be so ungracious. Still, she had no money anyway, so I wonder what she was intending as payment.
DeleteFret, sea-glass, tear
ReplyDeleteAcceptance
Driven by ambrosias scent,
I fret over what you control.
Have I written? -That I have.
Have I entertained? - Think I have.
As a child, experiencing solace in being teased.
meant the bullies spent time
thinking about me.
Blood from torn heart, my writers’ ink.
Can it provide what I’ve been denied?
Will obtaining pedigree, create or remove my blind eye?
How do I represent, memories of stunted growth and callous pain?
Dreams like sea-glass, shattered by writer’s silence,
or my songs?
The ouroboros exists.
A never-ending circle.
Does being a winner mean,
always biting my tail?
Wowzers, Jeffrey. You could be poetically describing my life there. From being chastised as an outsider to learning to accept and come to terms with ones own success. Nice tough with the bting ones own tail and becoming se;f consuming to surpass ones self.
Delete** Nice Touch**
DeleteThis is biographical, yes? Or at least partially? You do seem to wear your heart on your sleeve at times, Jeffrey. That having been said, this is a well put together...if melancholy...piece.
DeleteSnap: Theo’s Saturday musing
ReplyDeletePebbles revealed by tide-retreat – shipwreck china and green sea-glass; to a child, tempting as sweeties, valuable as jade – had the merit of teaching the useful lesson that such promise dims or disappears with time.
Which was not to say Theo lacked sympathy when his daughter came to him in tears, fretting at the dulling of her ‘treasure’.
He was too well aware that a recent promise of a favour to a friend – part-based on a glistening of monetary reward – had turned sour.
Septic.
To life-threatening degree.
That he had been promised. In a manner all too likely to come true.
How somber yet real this felt as I read it. There was also a circular effect, as a child we can be mesmerized by that which sparkles and again when we're adults.One of the best stories this week, Sandra.
Deletethis captures many emotions, not least expectation that what glitters may not be gold but we do expect it to go on glittering - whether it be material or physical. Either way, you captured it.
DeleteReminded me so much of the abundant loss one felt as a child when small things went missing. A very moving piece that.
DeleteYour talent for composing very different tales and each one being as intriguing and thought-provoking as the next is indeed enviable. This was quite lovely.
DeleteStop The Week; I Want To Get Off (93)
ReplyDeleteNot yet fretting but it will come. Getting used to the quiet outside, just. Shaun and I talk every 3 days, hiding the longing to open the shop, put on the lights and bring back the atmosphere which he says has gone. It’s hiding in tears while we wait out the lockdown. And the grief, a 40 year friendship ended with my US correspondent a victim of the virus. Sea-glass, a fancy name for trash. Covid-19, a fancy name for something awful. Meantime, I’m working on future issues of my magazine, all going surprisingly well, so I won’t interrupt it!
Sorry for your loss, Antonia. IMHO, the atmosphere is only on hiatus and it wll also be back.
DeleteSorry for your loss; glad at the progress of the magazines.
DeleteAntonia I am so sorry for your loss I send comforting thoughts. The rythm outside is different somehow, and I wonder if I would have noticed it as much without my CCTV cameras. I used to get a lot of triggers overnight from trespassers and wildlife now nothing between 21:00 and 10am.
DeleteNice to find something within the dark to lighten the days...although I am sorry for your loss, Antonia. Forty years. Such a long time. But the fond memories will prevail. I have a feeling nothing is ever going to be quite the same after this. And I find out earlier this week that Tim Brooke-Taylor, one of my favourite anarchic comedians back in the day, has also fallen victim to COVID19. Rest in peace, you crazy Goody.
DeleteThe Mad Italian (152)
ReplyDeleteTo those who fret over restrictions I say, it is the only way to stop the virus – it will not kill it, not even begin to stop it but it will slow its progress while the scientists tear it apart in an effort to discover its secrets and in so doing, find the solution to any future pandemic. So, whilst sea-glass bumps against shorelines and none are there to retrieve the treasure, the earth takes the chance to restore itself, to lose the pollution, to show what flowers can be like when not covered in residue from cars and planes…
Such a beautiful commentary, look at the good that something bad can produce.
DeleteThis is such a lovely observation. Every day since this began I wake from a vivid dream with a song in my head. Today was UB40 the earth dies screaming. So its nice to have this better view of the world.
DeleteA beautiful bit of optimism during these trying times. Thank you, Antonia.
DeleteThe decrease of pollution would appear to be at least one benefit of this toxicity. However, I fear the human race is becoming restless at the enforced restrictions and beginning to push the envelope in an effort to recapture normalcy. Hopefully, it will not set us back too far. The Mad Italian is most certainly a voice of sanity in these troubling times.
Deletefor those who haven't been with me throughout the 162 weeks of visits,
ReplyDeletethis is the mighty Leonardo Da Vinci who speaks with me every week for you. Galileo has yet to make any appearance. My publisher works with both Leonardo and Michel Nostradamus, they might think that's sufficient for the time being from that era... Oh, he also works with John, aka John the Revelator, and his task is to rewrite Revelations so it can be understood. we get all the good jobs, do we not?
An interesting beginning on a Six degrees chart.
ReplyDeletejust a little confused by your response, Jeffery - it was your calling Leonardo Galileo which prompted this - none of it is fiction, I work with Leonardo every week, and sometimes channel messages from him to my publisher, who returns the favour with messages he receives. He has books to write, I have scrapbook books to write - or fill in. I am given names, I wait for the person to arrive and give me their message. It's work, every bit as much as free-hand writing, not influenced by any spirit. My Politicians scrapbook holds a lot of surprises and a lot of 'he would say that, wouldn't he?' The Victims of the politicians, the second half of the book, is heartbreak when you read of the Romanovs from their POV, of earl Mountbatten's sombre thoughts, Jean Charles de Menezes -
ReplyDeleteThat was my mistake last week. I'd been reading a book by Eric Flint; 1634-The Galileo Affair, when I started doing several comments. No insult intended. My reference to Six Degrees, is Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon about how connected people can be. John the Revelator is the John of the Gospell name and the same as John the Revelator who wrote Revelations and a few letters in the Bible. My apologies for what I've done, it was unintentional, and never meant as a commentary on how hard or how excellent your stories and work are.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteNow that's revenge and for some reason, I don't think it's over.
DeleteOh yes. Magnificent. Wodsie photoshopped into a dress. Gotta love it. Chew on that, Woodsie!
DeletePick should read as pic, damn autocorrect
ReplyDeleteThis is almost a partner piece to this published Poem and video I did 6 years ago so I hope you don't mind me sharing a link to it.
ReplyDeleteThe Sea and Me
Held by The Ocean
I came to talk to the ocean
about the gifts she gives to me.
The shells she spits on the seashore,
and other treasures that she gives for free.
The way she hugs with her arms open
Inviting all in for a swim,
Her rip tide tells you you're coping,
but knows you'll eventually give in.
Her spindrift sprays like tears from a fretting heart,
coating all with a foam of despair.
Firing out darts made from sea-glass,
that cut you, but then are not there,
I especially enjoyed the last verse, William. The darts made from sea-glass is a particularly vivid image.
DeleteI am essentially envious of those who can put together words so poetically...envious yes and admiring even moreso.
DeleteMust confess I had a lot to drink last night, and don’t remember writing this, but had a vivid dream of me and my family being held hostage in some council offices where we were forced to learn how to white water raft, then we escaped and we ra; through a place I had been in other dreams, then I woke up and it was 5am so I got up and watched hunger games with one of my daughters. Not sure this helps with how I approach my creative process
Delete"Tears from a fretting heart" an excellent line in an excellent stanza.
ReplyDeleteGot caught up in other things today, but will return tomorrow with comments. Seems I have many excellent entries to read and enjoy.
ReplyDelete