Always and forever


It’s Friday, well it is here in the UK, so it’s time for Friday Fictioneers. Each Wednesday Rochelle Wisoff-Fields posts a photo prompt and writers from all over the world drop everything ( almost) to write 100 words and post by Friday.  It’s a great way to meet some great people, so why not give it a try?. Here is the photo for this week, courtesy of Rennee Homan Heath.

Genre – Memoir (99 words)

Path to the beach

Blue skies, warm soft air, white sand,

The days of love and longing here

Long ago, crowd my mind and bring a smile.

We are older now and unable

To run up sand dunes, or lie together

As we did back then, lost in wonder.

We walk more slowly across the sand

Still hand in hand, lovers still but not

That hectic, frantic love driven by need and lust,

A gentle touch, a smile, an embrace now speak

Our love, we will remember always those first days

When we made our pledge, one to the other,

Always and forever.

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Lost years


Here is the prompt for Friday Fictioneers this week from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Genre: Memoir (100 words)

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He should be here, you say with that trembling voice,

Will you ask him to hurry?

Why is he taking so long?

Years ago you voiced the accusations of your doubting mind

Out loud, deceit, faithlessness, disloyalty,

He had no chance to stay your ranting onslaught,

You were frighteningly ferocious, they say.

I was too young to know him,

Too young to understand the words I may have half heard before sleep,

You are too old now to realise that he can’t come back,

But I repeat again the soothing words

There there, don’t worry you will see him soon.

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While I was waiting for inspiration… Starting Over


Back Camera

Sitting in front of a blank screen is quite daunting when you have things you want to say and are not quite sure where to start. It is relatively easy to follow prompts for weekly challenges on travel themes or photography but quite another matter when you are attempting a writing prompt and waiting for inspiration. I envy the seemingly free-flowing blog posts of others, they seem confident and assured whereas I seem to flounder about for ages, shall I post this, and will anyone read it? And so it goes, more or less.

I should really be working, I have a lot to get through today but my heart isn’t in it. I can only get excited about so much paperwork and having checked on the latest accounts – fine, the amount of stock we are holding – also fine, the remainder of my “To Do” list can wait a while.

I was reading recently about a writer who knew she wanted to be a writer from the age of seven. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do right up to leaving college; I envied friends who went into banking, accounting, nursing with a natural transition. I wrote letters, sent CV’s and though I got a few interviews none of the jobs was ever going to set my pulses racing. I waited for the thunderbolt that never came and in the end I went to work for my father who had his own business developing new plastic products for the automotive and leisure industries. We made oil seals and spoons in seemingly equal numbers; the production was interrupted occasionally by something different, but this didn’t happen very often.

I learned a lot of new words like, extrusion, purging, polytetrafluoroethylene, polymers, petrochemicals, which made my new found typing job quite difficult – you must understand that this was in the days of the typewriter and if you wanted more than one copy, you used pieces of carbon paper, one mistake and you had to do the whole thing again! I quickly moved on to marketing.

As my father’s daughter, I had to work harder to gain any promotion; I had started on the bottom rung when I first joined him, making the tea for everyone, even cleaning the toilets and rest areas, running errands, filing and general office work. He wasn’t going to let anyone say I got where I was because he was my father. Although I wasn’t too happy, I understood his thinking and just got on with it. The upside was that the other employees accepted me more readily when they saw there was no favouritism.

I worked for him for about five years, until he employed “The Office Manager from Hell”. I shall call him Nerd because that’s what he looked like, a Nerd. He made my life a misery because he could, and because he knew in his own twisted way that I wouldn’t complain as that would mean raising the “favouritism” flag.

I tried to like him, tried to overlook that plain fact that I could do his job with not much effort, as I had incorporated much of the role into my job before he arrived. He was thin and weedy and I liked my men tall and strong looking, but I tried to overlook his physical failings and concentrate on being a good colleague. The final straw was when the money in the petty cash tin in the safe didn’t balance; he sighed and asked me why there was money missing. There wasn’t, he had just added it up incorrectly. He held out his hand like Moses receiving the Ten Commandments and asked me for the keys to the safe.

I left amid much family argument.

The only downside to working for my father was our ability to carry on work related issues over dinner, much to my mother’s annoyance. This stopped quite abruptly when I left as my father didn’t speak to me for a while. He said later that had I told him about my treatment by the Nerd, he would have stepped in and done something about it, but the Nerd was the son of the bank manger…

My next job was working as head cashier in a supermarket, but more of that another time.

Travel Theme – Multiples


These are my photos for Ailsa’s Travel  Theme this week. They are all “Multiples” of one kind or another

Multiples

I found the stones outside the lower reception area of the Mandalay Bay Hotel in Las Vegas, they had a lot of very interesting objects set in and around the hotel.
The scallops were part of the very enjoyable lunch we had at the Portxiol Hotel in Majorca. The hotel is set in a stunning location by the harbour, just outside Palma.
The shoes – well, a friend had been telling me of her search for flat black pumps and how she had been unable to find any that she liked. While we were in Cornwall, I saw this display in the front of a shop window.
The narrow street is in Mevagissey a lovely old fishing village, also in Cornwall. The lines of windows caught my eye as the street wound away up the hill.

Hope you like them. You can see other “Multiples” here http://wheresmybackpack.com/2013/01/04/travel-theme-multiples/

Light blue touchpaper…


Happy New Year!  Friday Fictioneers are back, you can read other stories here

fireworks-lora-mitchell2

photo courtesy of Lora Mitchell

Twenty five cards are lined up on the mantelpiece. My daughter is smiling as she pours drinks for everyone, pleased so many have thought of her today.

The party moves outside where boyfriend Dan is busy lining up rockets, fixing Catherine wheels to posts, balancing Roman candles along the flat bit of the fence. He is grinning. He organised this dual ‘event’.

I stand watching the bonfire being lit, the rockets launched into the night sky, Dan’s big red face. He should take care.

I hadn’t known you could buy ‘Divorce’ cards and on reflection, I preferred Guy.

(100 words)