The Train

August 31, 2013September 2, 2013 / Dee / 25 Comments

This week’s photo comes courtesy of Dawn Miller and is taken inside Union Station, Washington D.C. The marble and columns speak of times gone by and thinking of this led me to my story for Friday Fictioneers. I was delighted to have at least come up with something this week, I failed miserably last week as I was so involved with work, I never seemed to find time to myself to write. Thanks as always to Rochelle 🙂

The Train

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Bathed in silvery moonlight, the train waits in the siding. It is empty, except for the ghosts. Their fingers linger over highly polished mahogany. Fine silks and satins glide over heavily carpeted corridors. Thousands of stories have unfolded in the confines of these sumptuously elegant carriages.

It is morning. Highly trained staff will soon board, the ghosts will vanish and the magic will begin. Windows will gleam, crystal will sparkle, silver will shine and crisp table linen bearing the world-famous cypher will be laid. The Venice Simplon-Orient Express will be made ready to beguile and charm; another adventure will begin

http://www.orient-express.com/web/vsoe/cabins.jsp

PS I have just realised that I ‘liked’ this post – I did think it was alright, but never intended to ‘like’ it publicly. Please excuse my arthritic fingers attempting to get to grips with the new mobile App for WordPress, I promise to take more care in future and only ‘like’ your posts. (02/09/13)

Where trees are fallen

August 16, 2013 / Dee / 26 Comments

Another week, another post for Friday Fictioneers. Follow our leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, then join our merry band. Thanks this week for the photo go to Roger Bultot.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Where Trees Are Fallen

“Jarvis,the car! Get me away from these people.”

“They’ve just returned you as their MP, for a second time sir.”

“And what happened to my previous majority?”

“Yes that’s odd, especially as you were born here sir.”

“We don’t mention that, remember?

“Sorry sir, I thought….”

“You didn’t think, otherwise you wouldn’t have allowed that moron in to rant at me”

“But you altered the route of the new railway. The land had been in his family for years.”

“Tough. It’s called progress.”

“Surely you could have listened sir?”

“I did. Now get the bloody car!

“Sir, about the car…”

Give me a land of boughs in leaf,
A land of trees that stand;
Where trees are fallen there is grief;
I love no leafless land.”
– A.E. Housman

At the moment we have great arguments raging here about the new HS2 train which, if it goes ahead, will cut a swathe through huge chunks of the English countryside. The photo made me think of all the trees that are in danger, the ancient woodlands that will disappear.

Click on Mr Froggy for more stories

Mistaken Identity

August 10, 2013 / Dee / 18 Comments

A little later than usual, here is my effort for Friday Fictioneers this week. A big thank you to the lovely Renee Heath for the photograph this week and to Rochelle for all the time and effort she devotes to FF – we are all truly grateful. Bow, curtsey…

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

Mistaken Identity

“Stop, stop. Stop!”

My son tightens his grip, his little nails dig into my hand.

“What’s the matter Sam, whatever’s wrong?”

I pick him up. His face is ashen. Two perfectly shaped teardrops hover in the corners of his brilliant blue eyes, threatening to spill over any moment.

I hold him tight.

“What is it? Tell me what’s wrong. Do you have a pain? Just tell me.”

Removing one arm from around my neck and a wet cheek from mine, he points at the fire hydrant and, in the smallest voice, whispers

“There’s a Dalek and I don’t like him.”

Click on the little blue froggy thing to read more stories

By way of explanation…

We don’t have fire hydrants in the UK like the ones in the photograph.

In the mid-eighties we made our first visit to America. My husband is a film buff and a Western fanatic; the thought that he could see Monument Valley and walk in the steps of John Wayne had a lot to do with planning our vacation. In the event we never got to Monument Valley, but did see some amazing and wonderful places on that first trip.

During the stopover in San Francisco, which was much cooler than the weather we had left behind in Los Angeles, our youngest son complained that his legs were cold. My husband and elder son went off to find a shop where we could get him some trousers instead of the shorts we had with us, and we trailed somewhere behind. I think we were approaching Union Square when the incident I have written about happened.

A new series of Dr Who had just been screened at home and while my eldest loved it, my younger son and I would hide behind the sofa when there was a scene with the Daleks. They could be pretty scary.

Busy Bees

July 31, 2013July 31, 2013 / Dee / 35 Comments

Last week was one of those weeks best forgotten. I did no writing but lots of driving and listening, to mainly boring people, talking about mainly boring topics. I missed my Friday Fictioneers fix, like lots of others I look forward to Wednesday when the email from Rochelle drops in my inbox and I wonder in what direction the photo prompt will take me. The photo this week is courtesy of Jennifer Pendergast -hmmm

Genre: Horror

Word Count: 100 words

Busy Bees

The giant bee at the entrance attracted local newspaper headlines.

GIANT BEE LANDS IN HONEYPOT

HONEY, I GOT STUNG!

Alice ignored them and carried on with her work.

The giant bee was the idea of the PR-savvy graduate, foisted on her for the summer.

Alice ignored her too, and went to talk to her bees.

“She’s a problem, but we can’t have too many questions asked.”

“Buzzzz,buzzzzzzzzzz?”

“Just as you wish.”

That night as Alice drank the golden elixir, which she had done inside one shape or form for three hundred years, the hives were empty.

The swarm was forming.

PS – I needed an extra word, so I hope the hyphenated PR-savvy is allowed.

Life’s Cycle

July 17, 2013 / Dee / 39 Comments

It’s Wednesday it must be time for Friday Fictioneers. The photo this week is courtesy of AnElephanCant – (an elephant obviously can) and we Fictioneers are following the yellow jersey of our tour leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Join us and meet new and interesting writers from all over the globe, we have fun but be warned, it is very addictive and your Wednesdays will never be the same again.

Genre: Poetry

Word Count: 100

Life’s Cycle

We rode side by side in silence lost in thought

Happy in companionable silence

Our love was new in that early carefree time

When you looked at me and saw perfection

And I looked at you in adoration

The years unfolded bringing joy and heartache

At times it seemed in equal measure

We rode out less as our children came

And interrupted our treasured togetherness

We argued and fought like any married couple

Until we found our new direction and grew close again

The same but stronger

Now too old to ride, our cycles gather dust and hold

Our memories

The Convict

July 10, 2013 / Dee / 46 Comments

This week’s photo prompt comes courtesy of Randy Maizie. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write 100 words on whatever the photo suggests to you. All submissions are scutinised by our leader Rochelle Wisoff-Fields aka Mrs Phelps and enjoyed by all the other Friday Fictioneers. Good luck!

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

The Convict

After eight gruelling months, the Barossa reached Hobart.

Released from their shackles, the prisoners staggered on deck for the muster. Richard stood quietly. There was no escaping the unyielding heat of the southern sun. Briefly he envied those who had died in their chains.

The charge was murder; lacking evidence the gallows were exchanged for penal servitude. He was innocent; friends and family knew it and it pained him to accept that he would never see them again.

He laboured hard, eventually receiving his ticket. His homeland forbidden him, Richard settled in Van Diemen’s Land and died there aged 56.

This is based on the research I have been doing on my family tree. I have an ancestor who was transported to Van Diemen’s Land – present day Tasmania – accused of murdering a special constable who was trying to quieten a mob during a Chartist riot. Richard was found guilty, based on the evidence of someone who remembered ‘a tall lad in a brightly woven cap’. He escaped the gallows only to endure transportation for life. He was 21. Forbidden ever to return home, he made a life in Hobart.

For more information on Convicts in Australia

A Story of Love

July 5, 2013 / Dee / 24 Comments

On the merry-go-round of the Friday Fictioneers, we spin our stories, tell our tales; climb to the heights or sink to the depths of the human condition. The photo to challenge us this week, comes courtesy of David Stewart, you can climb his Green Walled Tower to read more from him, and you can read more from Rochelle, who leads the Fictioneers up and down and round and round each week.

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

A Story of Love

I believed your promises of love and forever

I left my friends and family behind

They didn’t see what I saw

Couldn’t bask in the glow of the love you gave me.

I walked beside you

Your confidence soared

You matured

Saw a different world

A world of opportunity

Endless possibilities

For an unencumbered man.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

Heartbroken desolate abandoned

Unable to dull the pain

I returned to my safe haven

Loving arms held me tight

Unquestioning support and solace

Nurtured the Me you had destroyed

Watched the smile I’d lost return

Saw me climb back to my place in the sun.

Musical Memory Lane

June 29, 2013 / Dee / 28 Comments

When I first saw this photo, I thought of the brightly painted camper van that used to park outside our house. It belonged to the boyfriend of the lady who lived next door to us, it seemed a wonderful magical thing to my childish eyes. It was the 60’s, a time of great change in the world, the one that most affected me at the time was the music. Now I had The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, The Righteous Brothers, The Supremes, The Byrds….with tongue in cheek and your indulgence, I give you my trip down a musical memory lane

Musical Memory Lane

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

Hey Mr Tambourine Man, you’re the king of the road and I’ll never find another you. Baby don’t go.

Just once in my life I want to be with the ‘in’ crowd. I’ve got a heart full of soul and you’re like a rolling stone.

Didn’t you hear me crying in the chapel? You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling and I want you back in my arms again.

You’ve got your troubles, but you keep singing the same old song and I’m tired of waiting.

Stop! In the name of love

I can’t get no satisfaction; baby, the rain must fall.

Thanks to Rochelle for conducting the Friday Fictioneers, we dance to her tune each week. Thanks for the great photo to Indira Mukerjee via Scott Vanatter.

A Role Reversal

June 19, 2013June 19, 2013 / Dee / 52 Comments

I missed last week’s Friday Fictioneers; for friends and followers, my previous post explains what happened. All is still not well but this is not the place…

The lovely photo prompt this week, courtesy of Managua Gunn should provoke some great stories from the Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle as usual for continuing to spur us into action.

Genre: Fiction

Word Count: 100

Role Reversal

She stands erect, eyes forward never moving, as we watch her from the corner of the square.

Her long blonde hair is tied back under her helmet, her uniform immaculate as always. I want to touch her, but cannot.

Occasionally she will come to attention, march to the post across the courtyard, turn and march back, but I haven’t time to wait.

Last night she wasn’t immaculate as she abandoned herself to desire. Passion spent, we slept entwined, waking early for her to take up her post.

We walk away. I have to get the children to school.

The Wondrous Heffelumpion

June 5, 2013June 5, 2013 / Dee / 57 Comments

It’s that time again!

It’s that time of week when we sharpen our wits

And try to work out a story that fits,

Just 100 words, not one more or one less

That’s what’s required from our good leader-ess.

She watches o’er our writing with candour and wit

Never tires of praising and commenting one bit,

Rochelle reads them all as Chief Fictioneer

For which we are grateful, let’s give her a cheer

The Wondrous Heffelumpion

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

My grandmother knitted the wondrous Heffelumpion when I had the mumps. It was love at first sight. He went to school, university and kept me company in my first tiny flat. After much washing he went saggy, but I still loved him.

If my husband thought me odd for keeping H on my bedside table, he kept his thoughts to himself. Our children loved him, each in turn; when they had done with him I took him back.

My little granddaughter has now claimed him, taking him everywhere tucked under her arm. She calls him Mr Snuffles.

She loves him.

Some of her other smaller friends: Bagpuss & Ted