Song Lyric Sunday. Bus/Truck/Lorry. 6/10/2019

This week Jim Adams at Newepiauthor has given us the prompt :Bus/Truck/Lorry. For Song Lyric Sunday.

I chose The Magic Bus by The Who. It was written by Pete Townshend and released in 1968. I had left school that year and was training as a window dresser. In a boutique called Birds, honestly it was called Birds and in was in West Ealing , West London.

The Who were a West London group and so my friends and I were big fans….. Fun days.

Happy days.

Mum, Me and Steve the dog back in the day.

Twittering Tales #154 – 17 September 2019 – Photo Prompt

The Find.

“It looks great in the hall.”
“Where’d you find it?”
“The attic.”
“I’m not sure it looks a tad worn.”
“Nothing a good polish won’t fix.”
“Umm, really?”
“Look a rub here, a rub there and it will shine like new!”
“Let’s get some coffee.”
As Will and Ed walked off the knocking started.
(275 Characters)

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This is part of Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales.

Death, Cause and Effect.

I wrote this story in 2014 but with the news of yet so many gang related killing in London and around lately. There have been so many knife crimes this year. In light of this I thought I would repost Death, Cause and Effect.

DEATH

It was quiet and dark and the sun through the window was warming him just enough to keep him alert now his fight had begun.

The bench was hard but he could take that, it was the pain in his side and chest which filled his being, everything else was flat.

Fear gripped his mind, he was so cold inside yet a sweat was rippling down his back. His sight was blurred, was he going blind?

Slowly a long hidden memory came to the fore. His mother had taught him it long before he had changed. “Gentle Jesus meek and mild look upon me a little child”

OH! Jesus if you are there help me now, I did not need you then but I do now. Jesus this pain is f###ing killing me, help me help me please. Slowly he slipped forward onto the floor a darkness washed over him and he knew no more.
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“Where are you going son. No, out, will not do! Listen to me boy I am asking you. Why must you run with that pack it seems to me now there is no coming back. What has happened to you, you were such a good boy at school I had hopes that you’d go far but your just like your brother playing the fool.
No your not wicked but you are not a fool and I am telling you this, in my book you’re not cool.”

“What are you doing with that? Give it me back , don’t you threaten me son I’ll give you a smack. OH! Please will you listen to me don’t take that knife it will not set you free from the boredom in your life. It will not get you a job, it won’t make you a man what has happened to you and your world changing plan? You had vision and hunger for work a decent and pleasant boy not as you are now , just a jerk.”
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Clearing up quietly the priest approached the the last row when something on the floor that caught the suns last glow. Red and sticky he knew what it was but he prayed to his God that it would not be true. The boy lying his arms out wide, blood flowing from his side. A thought crossed his mind but he dismissed immediately. He looked like Jesus did, you see. Arms out wide , blood from his side a cut round his forehead dripping, blood in his eyes.

He took out his mobile and took a deep breath as he dialled , ambulance, police he begged his mind running wild. The operator was telling him what to do, “Keep him warm and stem the blood is what I want you to do.” He ripped off his cassock and swaddle the lad he then notice blood on his jeans ( the best ones he had) He cradled the boy and prayed in his ear “keep trying to stay ask now, Jesus will hear.”

It was half an hour until anyone arrived the paramedic crew gently moved the priest to one side. It was too late the boy was gone, then with their radios crackling loud, the police taped the area off,with people from everywhere arriving, such a crowed.

Standing back and looking around the priest said a prayer with out making a sound. “Dear God take the soul of this boy who died here today and give him some peace, and if you have time help me find words to sooth his family, at least ” Then he sat down exhausted, he was just a man even though he was called priest.

Photo found here

A woman on her way home from work regretting an argument at the start of her day was wondering how to fix things and what she could say. She always said never give up, never leave a good word unsaid. Never leave things, sort them before you go to bed. Passing the church she saw her youngest boys friends , he wasn’t there perhaps they could make amends.

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THE CAUSE

Photo found Here

He awoke with a jump. It was his brother rolling in drunk! Damn only 4am please don’t go over what’s to happen again. I know I must do this. I must prove myself.

It was all too easy a year a go when his best friend introduced him to the boys “you need to know” It had been simple things at first making old ladies jump, stealing traffic cones all laughing fit to burst.

When he was really trusted, got himself a name.Things became more serious it suddenly was a whole new game. They met the older boys, the ones with big fast cars. They all wore hoodies, bling and they all had facial scars.

It was money and messages that he had to run he was fit and had a bike.Now that is how easily it had begun. He often skipped school though not always willingly. There really was not any choice, what the big boys said, had to be.

His teachers all asked him why his work had slipped away he had a brilliant future and he had thrown it all away. He was a little worried but he shrugged his shoulders and wondered off, his teachers called him back but his friends told them to f### off.

Mum, she was desperate working on her own doing all she could to keep the house,the boys and make for them a home. The oldest she had lost him he had gone to drugs. She had tried so hard but he just robbed her blind and made her look a mug.The young one she had dreams for she had prayed to the Lord each day but now he was on the wrong track and now he was slipping the same way.

He knew he had become a waster, he knew that he was bad . It was the only way to be accepted and safe but the pain in Mum’s eyes made him feel bad. So he just avoided contact and hardened to her pleas. He was knocked back the other day when she begged him to stay home down on her knees.

He tried to ask his brother who ran with an older crew but he was useless as he was trapped there too. What chance was there, his brother asked, what was there for them to do there was no work or opportunities running with lads was at least something to do. It was all about status and how hard you are , what clothes you wore , what trainers and did you have a scar.
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His brother had one, on his face, from a fight with a rival gang. Okay it hurt , six days in hospital 17 stitches but he was now a big man??

Today was his chance to join the glorious crew. To take part in the big ruck was all he had to do.

Two weeks he had known about the fight , where and exactly when. It was on his mind both day and night . His thoughts were full of dread , through his blood ran pure fear it was nearly six now, the day was finally here.

Later in the kitchen when he was taking the knife , his mother caught him and shouted at him. He raised his hand to her for the first and last time in his life. Luckily she was small so he pushed her to one side as he crashed through the door and out the gate . His mother sat on the floor and cried.
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Later he met the guys when mum had gone to work , they knew a squat they could use to complete their plan. By 4pm they were jumpy they were ready to a man.They left the squat and through the railings ran. Jumping , punching the air and making feral calls they had it now they all knew the plan, they had all the balls.

He wished he’d picked a smaller knife this one was too large . As he was changing it’s position. Into him a couple of the lads all barged. At once he felt a sharp and stinging pain as he fell to the floor, it felt worse again. His side felt wet and his forehead was cut where he had scraped along the floor..

By Banksy

What’s wrong man, stop messing we haven’t got the time it’s 5 o’clock now hear those church bells chime. Oh! hey you’re hurt man what did you do. You stupid f### you stabbed yourself. We have to leave you here, no good to have a burden on the crew.

His best friend helped him in to the church and sat him at the back , hold on, he said, laters. then ran off to join the pack.

So he alone now, life ebbing from his side thought of mum, school his brother and he cried. He asked the lord for comfort but comfort did not come. He prayed a childhood prayer from deep inside his mind. The priest found him,and he was very kind. He wrapped his chest and held him and asked him not to go . He tried to but he couldn’t stay he felt too tired, too low.

He heard the priests’ desperate call as he slipped away forget the ambulance he though and just pray for me today. The priest felt him go, but he would not loose his grip he felt he needed to guide this lost boy, some mothers pride and joy.

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THE EFFECT

Image found Here

Getting off the bus and heading for home, she was tired her feet ached but she was determined not to moan. This was important, it had to be done she needed to put her whole being into saving her youngest son!

Pushing the front door shut behind her putting the bags down on the kitchen floor she looked into the living room but there was no one there. No television no shoot’em’up games standing in the hallway she called out both boys names.

OH! well, she put the kettle on and maybe she’d ring around she had both their mobile numbers but they did not always want to be found. The doorbell rings , damn she had only just sat down she, walking toward the door the phone begins to sing.

There it is the sight every mother dreads, a policeman and a policewoman , OH! god she thinks someone must be dead.
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The hospital was noisy but she didn’t hear a sound her lungs were filling up as she were about to drown. She had been waiting for an age now, would no one take her in. She was feeling really sick now and and felt like things were crawling on her skin.

It was so cold in there and he only had a sheet on . God he looked so pale but she supposed that was what you would look like when all your blood was gone.

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She woke up with the headache she had had since that day the shock of the police visit and what they had to say. She she knew she had to get up she knew she must today, it was the funeral and that would not go away.

Things had been different her elder boy had staid home he seemed to want to help his mother and not leave her on her own. She dare not hope he had changed but she was glad that he was there. She slowly put her face on and then she brushed her hair.

His friends were at the church like they had been that day , he was not not with them. Would this pain ever go away. The priest seemed glad to see her and he offer his support, she felt close to this man who was with her boy when for his life he fought.
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His favourite track finished and the last notes drifted away she stood up and looked at everyone and said she had something to say.

She knew that there was no work and that there was not much hope but joining gangs and using guns and knives was not the way to cope. Please listen she pleaded you are slipping away too many lives are wasted too many die this way. Something must be done and it must be soon we are loosing a generation it might be two if something is not done soon. How many more mothers have to suffer like she was. We really need to sort this out……… her voice trailed off to silence as she repeated, how many more mothers like me.

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This Week’s Twittering Tales #153 – 10 September 2019 – Photo Prompt

Photo by Nadiya Ploschenko at Unsplash.com

The Return.

Headlights pierced the room through the blinds. Oh! No she thought he’s back. The stress filled her body, why she asked herself, every time she thought she could relax he came home. Oh! Well that’s the end of her rest, best get him a cuppa and some food and of course the remote!
(278 Characters)
This is part of Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales.

Twittering Tales #152 – 3 September 2019

Photo by Geralt at Pixabay.com

Error 444.

Zeros and ones, they were her friends they guided her through life. She only saw in binary it was her norm. Beautiful colours blue, green and red were her comfort zones.
So it came as a real shock when suddenly she saw something emerging in black and white. Did she need a reboot?
(279 Characters)

This is part of Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS August 31/19

Lindaghill said “Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “couch” Use it as a noun or a verb. Have fun!”

Image from Pixabay

Couch.

He had been in the house for as long as anyone could remember. Witnessed three proposals, many a stolen moments of lust, one birth, two deaths numerous arguments and one nasty case of a fist fight.

Yes you could say he was part of the furniture. He was at home in every room and comfortable with each new generation. So it was rather a shock to overhear them speaking of him in the past tense. He’d done well, had a good run, but now he had outlived his use , past his best. However nicely it was couched he was unsettled by this line of talk.

To his utter shock he found himself out in the garden under the apple tree by the dustbins. It wasn’t too bad it was Summer and the cat and the dog were happy to join him in the shade.

It was the third day that he’d been out there when the young couple came over to talk to him they spoke in glowing terms about him. Then they went up to the house and spoke in enthusiastic terms to his latest couple who seemed very happy to meet the young couple.

Later that day he was heaved up into a red van and driven a short distance to the shops. He spent the night in the van…not happy in the dark not even a dog or cat for company.

In the morning he was move into a bright and busy place with coffee tables, music , wooden floors and lots of people.

“I love him” , he heard the young woman say to her partner “the perfect center piece for our retro café, yup the perfect couch.”

Once again he was in the thick of it part of bustling café / bar life.

Image from Pixabay

Thursday photo prompt: Frozen #writephoto

Rachel felt the temperature drop as she and the scouts neared Ewan’s camp. She spoke, telepathically, to the men as they rode behind her. “Feel this cold, know it, see this bleak landscape, know it. This is no seasonal weather this is the herald of war.”

The men heard her and the youngest, again, answered her. “What do you mean Rachel” he asked. Rachel told him how the evil vampire winter spread across the land from where they had travelled killing everything in its path and wake. She also told him how Lisa had cast an eternal summer spell around the Witches Tower. Sadly the evil winter had broke the bounds of that spell and invaded the tower grounds causing them to flee to find Ewan and his armies of the son’s if men. The winter was obviously catching up with them.

Rachel upped the pace feeling that there was more happened than just the vampire winter rolling in. The men too felt a sense of unease.

As they approached the camp they could see the land before and behind them to all horizons frozen and dark. The men were chilled to the bone.

Then as they reached the camp they found themselves on green grass, the frozen ground simply stopped.

“Lisa is working her magic” Rachel thought. As they entered the camp Rachel called to Lisa but she did not answer. Rachel was beginning to worry when a new voice spoke to her.

“Rachel” said the voice. “Lisa sleeps for now but not for much longer, the originals of the vampires tried to enter her head . Luckily I was around to save her” “Who are you?” growled Rachel adding “and how did you know Lisa, or my name come to that!”

The voice gently laughed and replied “I am Alicia known to Leona as Grandma, Queen of the witches and an elder to Lisa.” The voice was warm and calming, “I am here to help Rachel, hurry we need to talk” Alicia stopped speaking as suddenly as she had started.

The scouts lead their horses to food, water and shelter and whilst Rachel sort out Ewan, Lisa and Alicia.

She found them all in Ewan’s tent. Ewan discussing tactics with a worried looking Calador. As she entered the tent the two men looked up. “Your back at last any news ” Ewan snapped. Rachel’s eyes flashed red as she changed into human form replying as she did, “your men have a report for you” Scanning the tent she asked “Where is Lisa” from behind a screen to the left of where the two men were working came Alicia’s calm and gentle voice. “Here Rachel she is here sleeping” Rachel went round the screen and asked of Alicia, “Is she okay” the older woman smiled “She is indeed Rachel she will wake within the the hour. Meanwhile you and I must talk. ” The two women left the tent ..Rachel looked at the temperate evening and asked. “How long can you hold this spell” Alicia replied “As long as I need and when Lisa wakes she will help me and we can transport the temperature where ever we travel.”

Rachel shivered looking out to the frozen waste surrounding the camp perimeter and thought. ” We could not hold it before”…”You did not have me before ” Rachel heard Alicia’s voice in her head.

So the war had started there was no going back.

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To be continued.

If you wish to read Lisa’s and Rachel’s story up to this point you can find it here.

This is part of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Challenge #writephoto

Twittering Tales #151 – 27 August 2019

Mashup of photos by pendleburyannette (dragon) & MichaelGaida (forest) at Pixabay.com.

Instructions.

Approach in clear line of view. No sudden or aggressive movements. Speak gently. A dragon always reacts better to calm, gentle handling. You must master this first meeting, you never get a second chance. Remember you are a dragon keeper, you need a dragon more than they need you.

(280 Characters)

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This is part of Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales.

Thursday photo prompt: Mirror #writephoto

For visually challenged writers, the image shows green trees that ring a still pool. The sun shines brightly through the branches, casting a perfect reflection…and on the surface of the water, rainbows dance.

Mirror.

Lisa was missing Hope she had not been separated from her since she had given birth to her. It had taken all her strength of will to leave her with Leona.

As the sun rose higher in the sky she went to fetch water from a near by pool. When she arrived it was silent and still, the water deep and blue. The trees and the bushes reflecting green with the blue sky framing the pool. Lisa was captivated by the stillness and the beauty of pool.

Setting down the pots she had with her she knelt and looked into the water. Of a sudden it went black and Lisa felt cold, colder than she had ever felt.

The waters began to swirl and bubble before clearing. As she watched the water she became aware of four faces looking straight at her.

Lisa jumped back in horror realising that she was looking at the faces of the Originals of the Four Vampire Houses. At first she thought they could see her, and she drew back in fear.

To her relief they seemed not see her. she could hear and see all that they could. Following their line of sight she saw that they were inside a cave, filled with thousands of Vampires, some sleeping, some feeding on poor unfortunates, some having sex but all looking evil, so evil. Really this concerned her because she knew that individually they where not wholly evil. Mathew he was tender and gentle with Rachel. But these creatures of the night seemed to be infected with a hate and disregard for all except themselves. Their eyes devoid of all feeling or any soul. they might of had left in them. Any vestiges of humanity that they might of had was now long nollified by sheer blood lust.

A chilling thought struck Lisa, Mathew had been traveling with these soulless creatures. How was he fairing, was any of his tiny new born spark of humanity left.

As she watch she heard the ancients discuss their plans though she could not understand everything they said because they were using the old language.

She listened carefully to what they were saying committing every word she recognised to memory.

As she sat there a mist seeped into the the clearing unoticed by Lisa. Encircling and chilling her to the bone. Too late Lisa knew what was happening. The four ancients looked straight at her from the pool their eyes glowing red . The mist engulfed her and she felt the coldness of thousands of hands clawing at her and heard a thousand voices screaming for blood and war.

At that point Lisa fainted. Of a sudden the mist was gone and the pool cleared . Once again it became serene and beautiful a mirror reflecting it’s green and blue surroundings. A perfect rainbow danced on the water and all was calm under the sun.

The waters parted and a woman emerged from the centre of the pool. She approached Lisa, she washed Lisa’s blooded body then lifting her, she bore Lisa and her pots back to were the army was camped.

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To be continued.

If you wish to read Lisa’s and Rachel’s story up to this point you can find it here.

This is part of Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Challenge.

Twittering Tales #150 – 20 August 2019. Sweet Release.

Photo by Felipe Ribeiro at Pexels.com.

Sweet Release.

She awoke was she alone? Three days she had been captive. He’d raped, beaten and left her in her own mess. He was here, his breath on her neck. Then a siren went off, “no” he cursed. “It’s too early”as the water rushed in through the holes. Thank God death, was preferably to him.
(281 Characters)

This is part of Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales.