Into The Blue


I have been unable to post anything as my account was suspended by WordPress. I don’t know why this was and they haven’t told me why they did it. There was just a message saying my account was suspended when I tried to log on. I sent an email complaining and have not had a reply, but magically the account seems to be working now. Thank you WordPress!

So, with haste in case they change their minds and banish me again, here is the story you should have seen last week.

Copyright BS

Copyright B.W. Beacham

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

Into The Blue

“It’s deep blue, just like your eyes”, I say,

He continues to read the paper barrier between us.

“My outfit looks good, what will you wear?”

There is no answer.

He turns a page.

Seemingly all communication has ceased,

His silence is slowly suffocating me.

I walk onto the terrace.

I forgave his betrayal,

I should have let him go

Not clung to him in desperation,

Fearful of a life without him.

I watch the flotsam in the bay, subject to demands of an indifferent tide,

Like me.

I dress for the party and leave,

Travelling hopefully, towards new horizons.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thanks as always to Rochelle and to B.W. Beacham for the photo last week.

I have not been able to comment on any stories, I promise to make amends this week – WP permitting of course!

 

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Making a Scene


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

Courtesy of Al Forbes

Fleeing the Scene

Genre: Fiction

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

And me

 

 

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.

Nothing wrong in asking for a pay rise


 

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

Waiting


As a little white rabbit said “I’m late, I’m late…”

But I managed to pull something together eventually.  The thing about Friday Fictioneers is the big hook, once you’re on you just don’t want to wriggle off!  The photo this week is courtesy of Lora Mitchell and the Friday Fictioneers are lovingly corralled each week by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

lilies-lora-mitchell

Genre: Fiction

Word Count:  100

Waiting

Martha stares out at the city one last time.

Seems she is always waiting.

She had waited for a husband to love.

She had waited a while for their first child.

She had waited in vain for their second.

She had waited for her husband to love her as she loved him.

 

She waits for the bus, holding one bag and one silent child, ‘can’t have any more that don’t speak’

She waits at her mother’s door for the comforting arms that will hold them both; for the heart that is bigger than the ocean, to envelop them in love.

My Gift


It’s time for Friday Fictioneers again. Time to join the great group of writers who plot,edit, rewrite, tear out their hair, swear, lose sleep and patience all in an effort to get out 100 words for the challenge each week. Join us, we don’t bite – well, not all of us!

The photo prompt this week comes courtesy of Jennifer Pendegast.

Winding stairs

Genre: Literary Fiction

Word Count: 100

My Gift

I am still here, you did not destroy me.

 I fought my way out from beneath the horror of your overpowering ‘love’ into the light of normality and reason. I am not ashamed. I feel clean.

Not my fault, not my fault, not my fault, no shame.

I’m waiting for you. Waiting here at the top of the stairs; when I remove the bulb, you won’t see the wire you like so much,  tightly stretched across the top step.

Your fall to oblivion will be my gift to you.

And the gift of others, who never broke free of you.

A Fresh Start


Friday 1st March, St David’s Day and time for more Friday Fictioneers. Thanks for the photo prompt this week go to Beth Carter, and thanks for continuing to inspire the Friday Fictioneers go to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Genre: Literary Fiction

Word Count: 100 words

The Fresh Start

Photo - Beth Carter

Photo – Beth Carter

He looked out at the yard.

Not much stuff left now. Some cookery books, the unused  ‘zigzag action’ sewing machine, a red boudoir chair, some photo albums, a few shoes. All her castoffs.

He saw the red-haired woman again. She had walked passed a couple of times. Now she crossed the street and stood looking at the car. He had hated women, one woman, for too long.

He came outside, she smiled.

“Seems I’ve moved to an interesting neighbourhood, is the car in the sale too?”

He grinned, it wasn’t a sale, just a clear out.

He got the keys.

See other stories here

(Late entry this week. I tried to post last night, but for some reason I couldn’t load the photo and there’s never an intergeek around when you need one! So this is my Saturday Submission)