A Man of Vision


Two weeks into my retirement and hardly a word written!  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but then life has a habit of interfering. I have managed to scribble this, hope you like it. Thanks to Kent Bonham for the interesting photo and to Rochelle for steering us through the maze…

15 April

Copyright Kent Bonham

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

A Man of Vision

‘How can we help you if you keep the design in your head Antoni?’

‘I cannot draw a design, as it changes every time I think of it.  It is a fluid, changing thing I cannot confine to paper.  If you will help me, then you must work as I work.’

‘But this bears no resemblance to any cathedral we have ever seen.’

Antoni stopped listening.

Through years of turmoil and political unrest he worked on his masterpiece.  He never finished it, but saw in his mind’s eye all the colours, the textures and the glory of his beloved cathedral.

*******

For more information on Antoni Gaudi and his work, including his beloved cathedral the  Sagrada Familia 

 

 for more stories, click Mr Frog

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Early One Morning


Only one more week left at work … one good thing is that I will be able to spend more time writing and catching up with Friday Fictioneers.  I haven’t done much ‘visiting’ recently and I want to say thank you for putting up with me and still visiting and commenting on my posts. 🙂

Thanks as always to Rochelle for making time in her very hectic schedule to continue to lead us- sympathies with the dental work, I’ve been in the same boat recently, painful. Thanks to to Ted Strutz for the intriguing photo this week.

25 March

Copyright Ted Strutz

Genre: Family history

Word Count: 100

Early One Morning

May woke her brothers. The room was dark and cold. Condensation collected in puddles on the windowsill. Ernest pulled the blanket tighter.

‘Ernest, Walter, wake up. There’s water for a quick swill, your clothes are on the chair. Hurry up, don’t wake the others.’

They walked together alongside the canal, huddled against the cold, breathing out clouds into the morning.

‘Boys, hurry up!  If we’re late and refused work today, Joe Stamford will dock our pay for the week. Think of ma and the bairns, come on!’

Joe Stamford watched them running across the yard and started to close the door.

                                  *******

A little bit of history… May in the story is my grandmother. She left school aged 12 and went to work in a cotton mill in Colne, Lancashire, with her two older brothers. They left home around 5.30am to walk the two miles to work every day. Conditions in the mills were very hard, if they were late one day, they were refused entry and could lose their pay for the whole week. They worked hard to support their mother and six other siblings as by now, their father was quite ill and without work for long periods of time.

This is a photo of her, much much later, with my grandfather on a rare day out to Blackpool. (Apologies for the quality.)

2016-01-30 13.10.11

Copyright D. Lovering

 

 

Remembrance


Hope everyone is well.  I’ve managed to post something this week and it should get better in the next few weeks, as I’m about to retire from work…Yippee!  Thanks to Rochelle for the photo prompt this week and for always being here, despite her hectic schedule.

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Remembrance

Holding tightly to my grandmother’s hand, we crossed the river to the island in the middle.

The stepping-stones were slippery and we had to take great care, the water was very deep.

My mother didn’t like me going there. I think she worried about the deep water. Her father had taken her there sometimes, when he was home from the sea. I’d never met my grandfather; he left my grandmother years ago, no one mentioned him.

We had a picnic and picked some flowers which my grandmother threw into the river. I asked her why.

‘For remembrance,’ she said, smiling.

 

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Jar of Happiness


This was my original post for this prompt back in 2012.  Can’t quite believe it was so long ago but, as the saying goes ‘time flies when you’re having fun’ and Friday Fictioneers certainly provides that in spades! Delighted to hear that Sandra Crook  a stalwart of FF, is one of ten people short-listed for the Magic Oxygen Literary Prize 2016 and that our FBM Rochelle is busy with her next book and interviews on radio etc., etc., don’t know where she gets her energy from, wish I could borrow some 🙂

Image courtesy of Sean Fallon

The boy stands anxiously in line

Money clutched tightly in his hand

As one by one a box is taken from the pile on the counter

And handed to a mother, sister, grandfather, brother, father

He has none of these.

Nearing the front, he leans forward and tries to see if there is one for him

Then a brightly coloured jar catches his eye

It is full of cars, trains, planes and robots

Tucking it under his arm, he walks out smiling

His guardian waits to take him back to the home

Back to where the old toys are cheering

 

click to read more stories…

 

Moving Away


 

We have sun today, it makes me think Spring can’t be far away and the daffodils in the garden obviously think so too.

Thanks for the photo this week go to Al Forbes – love the old cars – and a huge thank you to our FBM Rochelle for just being there.  She has also been on the radio, you can catch her interview here

Copyright Al Forbes

Copyright Al Forbes

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Moving Away

Stella keeps her head down, conscious of the cut above her left eye. Though her cell phone has remained silent, she senses Robert is nearby; he doesn’t like to be disobeyed. ‘Honey, I’m sorry, it was an accident…’

Years of abuse made her compliant, silent, invisible.  Today, on the anniversary of her marriage, something snaps. Drawing out what little money she has managed to squirrel away, she is on a bus heading north.

Feeling safe, she sleeps. The loud blast from a horn wakes her. Robert is driving alongside pointing a gun, mouthing silent obscenities, totally oblivious of the truck.

 click for more stories

New beginning


Thanks to Sandra Crook for the photo prompt this week and belated congratulations on her well deserved competition win, a great story.  Thanks as always to Rochelle who nevers wavers in support and encouragement.

19 Feb

Genre: Fiction

Word Count:100

New Beginning

‘What will you do Grace, have you decided?’

‘For goodness sake Lewis, she only buried Edward this morning, she has yet to come to terms with being alone.’

Grace smiled. She had been ‘alone’ in the sense that Sarah meant it, for years. The Turner twins, friends since childhood, took sibling rivalry to new heights. They wouldn’t understand what she was about to do; she decided against explanation.

Edward’s death was sudden, unexpected. The twins, like the rest of her circle who expected tears and sadness, were perplexed by Grace’s calm exterior. Meanwhile, her heart, sensing freedom, was soaring.

 

 

(For some reason I can’t add the little blue froggy link, to read more stories go to Rochelle’s blog and click on the link there)

 

 

Grace


Another wet week in Wales, no wonder it’s so green here…… Thanks as always to our fairy blogmother Rochelle and this week’s thanks for the photo prompt, go to the sometimes poetic always interesting CE Ayr

29 January 2016

Copyright CE Ayr

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Grace

Grace shielded her eyes against the glare.  At the end of the track stood the white-washed farmhouse they’d been searching for.  Forty years ago, for reasons that were inescapable, she had turned away from Jack and married Edward.  She had kept their secret all this time, until Edward’s death set her free.

In the lavender fields of France, the powerful scent calmed her nerves.  The long journey was almost over.  Grace saw someone on a tractor in the distance and a moment of panic gripped her, she started to shake.

Amy gently took her hand,’go on gran, it will alright’

 

Tuneless


Thankfully the rain has ceased, but now the bright, crisp, frosty mornings come as a shock to the system.  Where did I put that de-icer? I know there’s a can here somewhere…

Many thanks to Rochelle  for continuing to inspire us and, this week, thanks to her husband, Jan, for the photo prompt.

22 January

Copyright: Jan Fields

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

Tuneless

‘I want to learn the piano.’

‘You would like to learn the piano.’

‘Sorry. I’d like to learn the piano.  Please?

‘We can only afford one lesson each week and your sister asked first.’

I remember that conversation so well, though it took place a lifetime ago. My sister was my mother’s favourite then, and could do no wrong.

I was a tomboy. I bit my nails, climbed trees, ran wild and played with the boys.  Definitely not mother’s idea of a pianist.

The piano took some punishment for a few months, until my sister discovered the local ballet class.

 

The First Step


My thanks to our leader Rochelle for being here every week, whether the road is rocky or smooth we follow wherever she leads.

Thanks also to Amy Reese for the photo this week.

15 January

Copyright – Amy Reese

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

The First Step

I smile, accepting their mild applause.  I’ve been out of my comfort zone in front of this class of restless fifth form girls, delivering a talk entitled – ‘Succeeding as a Woman in Business.’ Questions follow. Though I am enthusiastic, questioning their reasoning, hoping to provoke engagement, the poverty of aspiration astounds me.

Struggling to understand their attitude, I walk towards my car.  Tamara, the quiet girl who said she wants to be a hairdresser, stops me.

‘My family’s been out of work for years. How can I be any different?’

I tell her she has just taken the first step.

___________________________________________

I attended a local school, at the invitation of the Head of Business Studies, to speak to fifth firm girls about my story, how I got to where I am. The girls’ lack of aspiration that day still concerns me.