Well just look who I’ve found.
I met the amazing Julia, from the 100 word challenge, @theheadsoffice and Julia’s Place and her husband Nick on Saturday. We had a great time, with cake and conversation of the very best kind!It really did seem like we’ve known each other for ever.
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My first go at Julia’s prompt for ages, Freedom jumped out at me and my flash fiction wrote itself.
Far more subtle than physical abuse, more a creeping way he had of getting under my skin. He projected his own sick feelings of inadequacy that spread like a virus through any sense of self I possessed. He made me believe that I was useless, with no value or purpose at all.
How could I possibly help when he fell into the bowels of Hades Shaft, a disused mine, on Botley moor?
I’d shown him on the map, but he insisted he had the better sense of direction.
Then as the clouds lifted, I found my freedom and he’d met his maker.
Join in at https://jfb57.wordpress.com/2015/01/12/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week163/ if you ‘re quick before this weeks deadline!
I was walking through the panny in the tunnel under the road, it was a rite of passage. Girls didn’t usually go there, except me and Linda Wright. It was okay until we reached the bend under Heavitree bridge, then the darkness wrapped itself around us, like a coffin slamming shut.
There were rats of course, occasionally one would scuttle over our plimsoles. Even scarier were the eels, they slithered in noisy gangs with their ugly whiskers. We didn’t dare confess that the green stains on our clothes came from slipping on the algae covered pebbles. As I rose in the dark these memories came rushing back again.
Julia’s prompt for week 151 is . . . as I rose in the dark, and my piece isn’t fiction!
Julia was a bit stuck or a prompt this week so she decided it would be, but what is the prompt? Here is my entry.
Philippa watched her rival adjust the jet black wig she wore for the role. Her role, the one she’d always dreamed of playing. Sybil gave her a snooty, sideways look, before the curtain parted. She took her place at the prow of the mock galleon in the centre of the stage and gathered her thoughts as a hush fell . . .
. . . and gathered her thoughts,
. . . but not her lines.
Philippa sucked in her cheeks as she watched Sybil’s discomfort grow.
‘But what is the prompt Philippa?’ whispered the stage director.
‘I wouldn’t need a prompt,’ she laughed as she walked away.
Julia took her husband for a birthday treat a few days ago and it brought back fifty year old memories, so her prompt this week is . . . it was fifty years ago.
Walking to way back when
The 4th year boys played ‘A Life on the Ocean Waves’, on assorted instruments and straggled around the grass, tripping over their feet as they concentrated on their fingers. Heavitree church bells chimed twice, signalling for the headmaster, Mr Knowles, to bellow,
‘Miss Rhiendorp’s girls, line up for the first race.’
I took the spoon, carefully balanced the egg and launched straight ahead. Lesley was right beside me, until she dropped her egg; Jane Sheldon dashed past, but fell over just before the end. I won!
It was fifty years ago, the sports field seems smaller now, I’ve walked its length in a flash of memory.
Go to http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2014/06/02/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week-136/ to join in!
Julia went around Ireland by horse and carriage last week and so her prompt for the 100 word challenge is ‘the white horses were galloping’
Here is my interpretation.
Circle of Shelter
‘We must reach the menhirs before that Mammatus cloud or we’ll die.’ The white horses were galloping as if they had the wings of Pegasus.
‘Eleanor, you surely don’t believe those druid myths?’
We ran like the wind and fell into the circle, as the first thunder clap sounded. The rain swirled, and lightning flashed, darkness descended, though it was barely noon. Surely the hand of some vengeful God.
We woke to find the horses nibbling the sparse moorland grass, like us, completely dry.
Everywhere outside the stone circle was flooded.
‘It’s no myth Gabriel, the beasts know the circle is shelter.’
I’m very late this week so the new challenge will be out tomorrow. If you would like to read the other entries visit http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2014/05/12/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week133/
Julia is expecting some sombre entries this week because her prompt is, …when the night demons visit… here is my entry.
Something’s moving in the grass by my feet. It stops for a few seconds and then sets off again. There is a sound, like an army of ants nibbling, every time it halts.
‘Fergus, did you hear that?’
‘Uh, go sleep,’ he groans in the sleeping bag beside me and turns over. On my own then. As I take my next breath my throat dries and closes over, I cough to clear it, and swallow the taste of sulphur. Raising my head an inch, I catch sight of the grass swirling.
When the night demons visit they ride on the back of a snake in the grass.
You can join in with a flash fiction at http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2014/04/28/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week-131/
I’m going to change the mood somewhat this week. It has been the Easter week-end and although it was not about chocolate, it has become a sweet-fest! So, the prompt is:
… but it has nuts in…
Of course I’m going to be rebellious so . . .
Walk for your treats
SX65378745 head south west, cross the clapper bridge on the North Teign River, a mile to the kissing gate. Follow the path west to a dry stone wall and then three stones from the top, eight from the triangular one you’ll find a map shoved in.
You’ll see that you must retrace your steps to the horizontal tree, the ground is boggy, take your boots off and wade through, then the hairy cows won’t follow you. See a standing stone that’s fallen? Put your hand in the mud and feel around. Got it? That’s your treasure box.
‘But it has nuts in it.’
Join in at http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2014/04/21/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week130/
Because we put our clocks forward last weekend Julia’s prompt is ‘time marches on’. Here is my entry.
She slithered under the metal bedstead. The object of her desire waited in the dark, dusty space in all its splendour. It had a picture of a dog, and a large winding tube, like a Sally Army trumpet, that she could fit her head into. What could it be she wondered?
‘Get out of there now you naughty girl, I told you not to touch that.’ Surprised, she banged her head on the diamond shaped mesh under the mattress.
That was sixty years ago, now she could plug a tiny gadget into her ears and listen to a thousand different songs. Time marches on.
If you’re really quick you can join in at http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2014/04/01/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week127/
Julia says, ‘The prompt this week is:
You can take it anywhere you like but only use 100 words.’
Here are mine.
The familiar smell of coach station enveloped me and I pressed my nose against the window hoping to see another self. Nothing. The little belly flutters shifted up a notch, more like a train in a tunnel now. I realised I had to move from my seat, I was last.
There were many black faces in Birmingham coach station, but one stood out.
‘Sis,’ said the big black bear as he wrapped me up. I felt shy as I raised my eyes to meet his, but there was the mirror I’d waited so long for, in the eyes of my newly found brother.