Life Reflected


This Friday Fictioneering is an addictive thing, miss one week and I feel dreadful. I have been trying to organise my time so I can do more writing -no, I am serious – and so far it has worked. Both last week and this I have managed to post something BEFORE Friday, very happy about that.

For those who are not yet aware and wondering what on earth I am blabbering on about, Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the one and only Rochelle you can read the rules on her post, then join us in our addiction. The photograph this week comes courtesy of the lovely Janet Webb

Copyright Janet Webb

Copyright Janet Webb

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Life Reflected

The sky is a glorious palette of colour; the pale fluffy clouds, almost touching the treetops are tinged with a warm apricot blush. As the sun dips below the horizon, a deep orange glow spreads outwards, filling my room.

Birds are winging their way home, returning to safety in the thick branches of the tall oaks; their freedom strengthens my resolve.

My eyes focus on the reflection in the window and I smile. I’m not the frail old woman I see there, I am strong. I am ready now to find Jack and tell him why I couldn’t meet him.

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PS  Something seemed to go wrong with WP apologies if you just got the background picture when i hit publish the first time.  Hopefully sorted out now.

We keep a welcome for everyone – not just NATO leaders…


It was really quite something to feel the buzz around South Wales ahead of the NATO Summit.  OK, so in Cardiff and Newport we moaned about road closures, diversions and interruptions to our daily lives, but it was only for a few days and we got over it.

According to news reports ‘Wales is well and truly on the map’, well actually we have been around for quite a long time. Remains have been found in Wales dating from the Paleolithic, Mesolithic and Neolithic eras. The first copper and bronze tools appeared in Wales about 2500BC and the Romans mined for gold at the Dolaucothi mine in Pumpsaint, Carmarthenshire.  Quite a long history wouldn’t you say?

Wales has 641 castles, 11 million sheep and around 3 million people. It has 750 miles of coastline and is beautiful place with mountains and valleys, a bustling capital city, interesting towns and villages, and some very welcoming people.

Come, Visit Wales and see for yourself.

Watch the video welcoming the NATO Leaders to Wales

 

 

 

 

 

 

10 May 1933


Well I’m back from holiday, feeling refreshed and relaxed, so bring it on!  I missed you all last week, and your stories.  Internet connection was spasmodic to say the least.  I hope you all had a good week.

In answer to Rochelle’s photo prompt this week, two stories popped into my head. I’ve gone with the stronger of the two.  Thank you as always to our gracious hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for her patience and unfailing encouragement.

Copyright - Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

10 May 1933

‘Come with us, it’ll be fun. We can get rid of all those books we hate.’

‘I don’t hate my books, how can you hate a book? Some are difficult to understand, but burning books, whatever are you thinking?’

‘If you don’t come, they’ll know.  All students are expected to be there, they’ll give us books if we don’t bring our own.  It’s time for a change; we are to be re-educated, the Propaganda Minister has said so, he will be there in person.’

Werner watched the burning with great sadness, fearing the world would never be the same again.

 —————————————————

Historical Note: On the night of May 10 1933, an event unseen in Europe since the Middle Ages occurred as German students from universities once regarded as among the finest in the world, gathered in Berlin to burn books regarded as being ‘UnGerman’…  Visit The History Place to read more

 

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Weed Killer


It’s that time again when we Friday Fictioneers are sharpening our wits and our pencils, trying to come up with a suitable story to satisfy our dynamic leader, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (she who must be obeyed).  Great photo this week courtesy of Roger Bultot.

I may miss the ‘Call for Submissions’ next week as we are taking a family holiday in Majorca. I’ll miss you and will do my best to catch up. Take care of yourselves x

 22 AugustGenre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Weed Killer

‘Can’t we have something other than weeds?’

‘I like weeds, they’re different’

‘I’d like some flowers Charlie’

‘Weeds are easy to grow; flowers aren’t macho’

‘And weeds are?’

‘I trim them, keep them in check’…

Sally went indoors.  They’d had the same argument for months, Charlie wouldn’t listen and she’d had enough.

She picked up the phone, it really was the only way to stop him.  And besides, neighbours had started complaining about the sickly smell emanating from the shed whenever he and Joe were in there, having a smoke.

She only wanted a few flowers.

Not much to ask.

 

More stories to delight you here -

An Invitation


I love the old desk in the photo this week and wonder how many ‘letters’ we will receive…

Thanks to Mr Fields for the photo and for Mrs Fields for continuing to mark our work and support our efforts.

Copyright Jan Fields

Copyright Jan Wayne Fields

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

An Invitation

Dearest Ellen

My words will be a shock to you and I beg you be seated whilst you read them.

When I refused Henry’s proposal, I know you were saddened as you wanted us to be sisters.  My disposition would not have suited your brother and I believed the wedded state was not for me.

I write to you to confess that I was wrong in my belief and have accepted the proposal of marriage from Arthur Nicholls. The wedding will be in June, my dearest wish is that you will be my witness.  

Your loving and devoted friend

Charlotte

 

Read more Friday Fictioneers stories – I insist 

 

This letter could have been written by Charlotte Bronte to her dear friend Ellen Nussey. Ellen’s brother Henry did propose to Charlotte and she did refuse him citing her disposition as the main reason they would not get on.  Charlotte married her father’s curate Arthur Bell Nicholls in June 1854.  Sadly the marriage was happy but short, Charlotte died on 31 March 1855 in the early stages of pregnancy.

If you would like to read more the link will take you to the website of the  Bronte Society

Bronte Society

Bronte Society – Ellen Nussey

 

 

 

 

Thank you for teaching us to whistle…RIP Lauren Bacall


Copyright- Getty

copyright Getty Images

It was with great sadness that I learned this morning of the death of Lauren Bacall. I grew up listening to my mother talk about her films, her love for Bogart, her voice and just how wonderful she was.

During a weekend stay in London many years ago, we were walking back from a restaurant to our hotel, when we saw her walking towards us. We were in Park Lane and it was quite late. She was all alone, hands thrust into the deep pockets of her raincoat, just walking down the road in the rain.

‘Look’ I said in a louder than expected whisper to my husband, ‘it’s Lauren Bacall.’

She turned toward us and said in that amazing voice of hers, ‘Yes it is, but keep it under your hat.’

 

 

Almost A Family


Copyright – Bjorn Rudberg

 

Almost A Family

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

They stood facing each other in the bare, dimly lit room.

‘Do you want this?’

‘Yes, they are my family.’

He tossed the album into the box labelled ‘’Irina”.

“What about this?

He held up a grubby blue teddy bear, waving it menacingly from side to side as he walked towards her.

‘Don’t, please not again.’ The blow knocked her to the floor.

‘I would have had a family too, if you hadn’t lost him. Now you’re trying to leave. You were very careless Irina, what shall I do with you?’

He lunged for her.

And never saw the knife.

 

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The dark cloud from last week has lifted – yay!  However, the photo from Bjorn reminded me of a story I read in the press a while ago, about a body being discovered in an abandoned, almost derelict house. The authorities had a very tangled web to unravel to discover what happened.  So colour me ‘dark’ again this week.

Thank you to our ever patient Chef de Mission - Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and to all the other Friday Fictioneers who write such brilliant stories each week.

 

In Harms Way


My thanks to Rochelle for her photograph this week and for the continued support she gives to all the Friday Fictioneers.  Each week she posts a photo prompt and urges us all to ‘say what we see’ – I apologise in advance for my mood this week. The news stories and film clips from the many war-torn regions of the world have occupied my thoughts for most of the week, to write anything in a lighter vein has proved difficult.

 

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

Genre: Creative nonfiction

Word Count: 100

In Harms Way

In the early morning we claw at the overnight rubble and debris searching  for the missing. The children are terrified, the women distraught.  The angry and patriotic young men talk of taking up arms, while their mothers weep.

What rains down on us from the heavens is making our land barren, what little food we had is almost gone. Clean water is rationed and in short supply. Cats and dogs lie dying in our streets; it is only a matter of time.

War mongers and posturing politicians lie safe in their homes; their strategy reduces ours to dust, to memories.

++++++++

 

Man was made to Mourn: A Dirge – Robert Burns

Many and sharp the num’rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves
Regret, remorse, and shame!
And man, whose heav’n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn, -
Man’s inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!

 

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