Time for Friday Fictioneers again. Thanks as always to Rochelle for keeping us all together (see what I’ve done there?) and thanks for the photo prompt this week to Sean Fallon, what an intriguing photo it is too.
My story this week, follows on from the one I wrote last week. A few of you Fictioneers kindly asked what was going to happen to ‘Tom’ and I have to admit I wasn’t sure. A few people were very annoyed at his attitude to Maggie, I thought I would revisit them this week.
Copyright Sean Fallon
Word Count: 100
Tom can’t understand why friends ask, ‘everything OK now?’
The attack on his wife was an attack on him too. Why can’t they see that?
The thoughts about what happened replay over and over. Maggie tries to reassure him that the attack, though violent, was brief, but his imagination runs riot.
He watches every man he sees, ‘Is it him?’ ‘Did he do it?’
Waiting, for the police to make an arrest; waiting, for THAT phone call; if they don’t charge someone soon he fears he will fall apart.
And it’s still affecting Maggie. Her behaviour has been odd lately.
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My story is rather bleak as that is how most things have seemed to me this week, though I have tried for a hopeful ending.
Thanks go as usual to Rochelle for continuing to host Friday Fictioneers. I must admit to slight envy when I read in her post that she will be meeting up with some Fictioneers this weekend, it must be so good to meet up in person with the people whose stories we read each week. I can dream…
Thanks also to Kent Bonham for the intriguing photograph this week.
Copyright – Kent Bonham
Word Count 100
Maggie walked carefully down the dimly lit back street. Her small bag contained the items she was told she would need, afterwards. The house in the back street was her only option, no-one must ever find out about ‘It.’
The bright room smelled strongly of antiseptic; the strange array of equipment on the starched white cloth, looked alien and frightening. Though her body had healed after the violent assault, the nightmare continued. Tom still could not bring himself to touch her and now, this.
She endured the pain and, with her body cleansed, at last felt ready to move on.
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‘They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.’
From the poem ‘For the Fallen’ by Laurence Binyon
Greek mythology has always been of great interest, I love the way the stories that have been handed down through the generations, are part myth, part magic and part history. The photo this week, courtesy of Al Forbes was always going to inspire one Greek tragedy or another. I decided to take a slightly different view, but I think I have managed to get some of the attributes of Hermes into my effort this week. So, a fanfare for the goddess of Friday Fictioneers Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, as she summons us all once more to the podium.
Courtesy of Al Forbes
Fleeing the Scene
Word Count: 100
Waking from a deep sleep I stretch feline-like
And then relax into the deep comforting mattress
Unbidden the memory returns.
The words cut deep, wounding us both,
Hateful bile spilled out of our mouths as we paced the room,
I cursed you for taking my love and trampling it underfoot,
For cheating and betraying me.
You grabbed my arms and roughly twisted one behind me
Trying to force me down onto the floor,
I felt excitement first then fury, that sheer strength could overcome me
Where words had failed
Shaken by your intentions you ran, fleeing the scene
I’ve just found out that this is my 200th post and I have to admit I’m rather chuffed to have got this far.
A recent survey by YouGov for the Sunday Times, found that British women are less likely to ask for either a pay rise or a promotion, than men.
I’m sorry, but this isn’t news to me and the findings don’t surprise me in the slightest.
Although women can manage the household budget and make most of the larger financial decisions at home, they are totally embarrassed about managing their own worth in the workplace. One friend once confided that if she was worth a pay rise, then her boss would make sure she got one. I wasn’t sure if she was scared of being told ‘No’ or not confident enough to ask.
Most men don’t seem to have the same reluctance, they also have more confidence to stand up for themselves and on average get paid more than women doing the same job – (on a personal note, this has always seemed an appalling situation to me, employers should set a rate for the job irrespective of the gender of the person doing it.)
In these uncertain times, hanging on to a job, any job, it a top priority for men and women alike. Unfortunately, most of the low paid, part-time jobs are done by women and when cuts have to be made, this is where the axe usually falls.
I haven’t any solutions and perhaps it is just that women are more interested in the broader picture of life, than the narrow view provided by work; whatever the reason women do need to find more confidence in the workplace.
See the full YouGov survey results here
It’s that special time of the week , the post for Friday Fictioneers. This week the colourful photo is courtesy of Doug MacIlroy – a great teller of tales. Each week the one and only Rochelle Wisoff-Fields casts her net and draws in writers from across the world, all eager to accept the challenge of writing 100 words, (no more, no less) inspired by a different photo each week. Join us…
NOT DROWNING, JUST OUT OF HIS DEPTH
Word Count: 100
One day a man started a job. It was the job he had always dreamed of, but it brought him unhappiness. The job demanded skills he didn’t believe he possessed.
Dejected, he asked his grandfather for advice.
‘A fish set off on a journey. Swimming strongly and steadily, it encountered many problems but stayed on course. The fish found itself in churning water at the foot of a waterfall; it paused not knowing what lay ahead, then plunged in and battled to the top.’
‘If you believe you can, you will, if you believe you’ll fail you will; your choice.’
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