#WRITEPHOTO – The Secret in the Stone .

For visually challenged writersthe image shows a stone or a tomb with a key-like inscription but no words upon it.

The Secret in the stone – Image by KL Caley.

They all look at my stone from the wrong end. Hey go to the other end and you’ll clearly see the story of my fate…. Why does nobody listen, or even think. It’s so cold down here I have been trapped so long.

Well as no one will make the leap of fate and view my story from the right end I will enlighten any of you with time to listen.

Just before the days of old, when knights were bold and round tables were something of an oddity. I was a young trainee to a black witch called Morgana. That’s black witch as in black magic. I had been stolen by Morgana just after I emerged from my mother’s womb. There I lay exhausted and cold waiting for some warm milk to fill my tummy.

Suddenly i was snatched away by this swirling, heaving cloak which was the witch. Now to be fair I had not bonded with my mother as she was not altogether interested in me. I had heard her cursing my existence each day I was inside her, and she didn’t have time to repent any of that or grieve for me because she died hours after my birth.

Anyway I am not asking for any sympathy because Morgana turned out to be a brilliant mother right from the start. I was kept warm , well fed and she loved me … She wanted me.

I grew and learned everything I was taught willingly. Morgana was delighted with my progress. I became as beautiful as she and as clever and that pleased her.

Now I have all the time in world but I can tell by the way you are all hopping from one foot to the other you don’t! So I will get a move on. every five years we would meet with the old wizard Merlin and his charge Arthur. Apart from being a boy Arthur was very like me. Not in looks but in provenance, his mother had died shortly after giving birth and he had been taken and brought up by Merlin, a white wizard …. infact we were yin and yan. We always got on well and played happily, which is more than could be said of our wards!

Now Morgana and Merlin both had interpreted what was written in stone a different way. Merlin construed that young Arthur was to be king and unite the Britons where as Morgana’s vision, the true one, saw me, Arthura as Queen of all Briton.

The day of our 20th birthdays arrived and we were called to the King’s stone to see which of us could extract Excalibur from the stone. You all know the story, “who ever could pull the sword from stone would rule all Briton.” Many had tried and they had all failed.

Arthur and Merlin arrived at the same time as us and though Merlin wanted Arthur to try the sword first, Arthur insisted ladies first. I approached the stone hitched my purple cloak over my shoulder and grabbed Excalibur by the hilt the sword began to slip from the stone. Suddenly it went dark the sun had been put out! No one saw Merlin hit me on the back of my head with his crook! As I lay on the cold ground I heard Merlin whisper, “sorry lass t’was not meant to be” I felt my life slipping away, as the sun reignited.

The crowd were all terrified and screaming, they were huddled together in fear of their lives, after all the sun had just gone out. Their minds had been wiped of all memories of me! Morgana cursing Merlin swooped in and bore me up and away.

Arthur, who had had his mind wiped of all memory of me too stepped up to the stone and with ease he withdrew Excalibur. The rest is, as they say history or myth. Or as I would say bloody unfair!

At dead of night Morgana brought me here and buried me, weeping all the while , she never forgave Merlin.

Morgana told my story on my tomb stone! Sadly Merlin thrawted her again. He cast a spell on it so that all who gazed up it only saw the carving upsidedown. So good ladies and gentlemen if you can turn your screens or the image the other way up. You will see Merlin’s hand holding the staff he murdered me with, and the sword Excalibur waiting to be removed from the stone.

It should of been me!

KL Caley at Novel Ideas has offered to take on Sue Vincent’s #writephoto weekly challenge now Sue has moved on to a higher plain.

This is part of KL Caley’s #writephoto

#WRITEPHOTO – DINOSAUR .

© KL Caley.

KL Caley at Novel Ideas has offered to take on Sue Vincent’s #writephoto weekly challenge now Sue has moved on to a higher plain.

For visually challenged writersthe image shows a red metal dinosaur in amongst the trees, beside a clearing.

The Dinosaur – Image by KL Caley.

Max loves Dinosaurs, he has books, and games and toys galore. He has a Dinosaur crash helmet for his bike and scooter.

© willowdot21

Just over a year ago we had had tickets to a Dinosaur show in London we took Max and our son to see it…Max loved it and does some very convincing Dinosaur roars.

© willowdot21

So imagine his delight when meeting a not so wooly mammoth in the woods.

“Good afternoon little boy how are you?” boomed the mammoth.

“Oh! Hello” replied Max, “I am very well thank you, how are you” He’s a very polite and caring young man, our grandson.

“Well” said the mammoth in a very loud whisper “I am actually very hungry” Max smiled happily and said “I have cheese sandwiches and a flask of hot chocolate. In my backpack. We could share if you like?”. The mammoth grinned widely and said ” Those are my favourite things, I would loved to share, climb up on my back and we can ride and eat”

Max climbed up the mammoth’s trunk and sat behind his head. They polished off the sandwiches and the hot chocolate as they trundled through the wood. After a while and a long and interesting conversation Max fell asleep. As he did the woods melted into the walls of Max’s bedroom and the mammoth in all its bright colours morphed into Max’s bed.

Max opened his eyes and saw his books, shelves and his reading wigwam and cosyed in feeling happy, the sun was peeping through the curtains.

Sounds came from downstairs Daddy and Ben were in the kitchen, Daddy was making pancakes. Oh! thought Max it must of been a dream.

Later that day Mum and Dad took Max and Ben to a new park where they found a brightly coloured wooly mammoth…. Max told them all about meeting the mammoth and riding on his back and sharing a picnic. When he finished they all said what a brilliant imagination he had!

As they all left to go home Max hugged the dinosaur mammoth and to his supprise it’s trunk hugged him back and it said “Thank you Max, come and see me again soon.” Max whispered, “I will, I promise”

Just then Daddy called out “come on Max we need to be making tracks” and so they did. “Bye bye” Max shouted as he ran to join the others. “Who are you talking to” asked Mummy. “No one” replied Max with a smile.

This is part of KL’s #write photo 💜

March 25: Carrot Ranch. Flash Fiction Challenge

March 25 2021, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write an escape. It can be daring or subtle. Who is escaping from what and why? Go where the prompt leads!

The Escape.

The escape was silent, no one heard. All asleep upstairs. Gently at first it grew fierce it fled the kitchen and headed for the stairs. Where they all slept on, in their beds 

It was cold outside so the doors and windows were shut tight. Unseen it swirled around the house. It filled every room, hallway and cupboard. Silent and invisibly it filled the house and their lungs. They slept on.

Tim awoke at about three AM. His head hurt. He went down to the kitchen to make a drink. He clicked the ignition on the hob. Flash Boom! 

Charli’s Carrot Ranch Prompt:

Well Done to Everyone Involved With The Sue Vincent Rodeo Classic.

On February 1st, the Carrot Ranch team set a competition and fundraiser for one of our finest, Sue Vincent. Using one of her photos for inspiration. The brief was to write a 99 word piece of Flash Fiction or 99 Syllable Poem and keep it under wraps until the winners were announced.

You can find all the entries, winners and judges picks here
Congratulations and well done everybody.

I did get placed but I was delighted to be Judge, Geoff Lepard’s pick. All entries were judged anonymously. Thank you Geoff and team for the advice.

Here is my Entry.

No place like home.

They had spent the last five years searching for the perfect place to settle. Travelling to several planets and even one other galaxy but nothing suited.

So their hearts lifted at the sight of the valley. The elders raised their hands prononucing "This is the perfect place, protected by mountains with it’s own water supply. Even a few remaining buildings."

A voice from the back chirped up.. "That’s where we started from, I can see my house" There was hush, a sharp intake of breath. "As we have always said" their elders smiled. "There is no place like home"

©Sue Vincent

Happy Mother’s Day.

Well it’s Mother’s Day here in the UK. The second year we have not been able to celebrate it as we normally would. So whether you have a mum or she is no longer with you ,whether you have children or not Happy Mother’s Day if you are celebrating.💜

I have picked three songs for mums and children. First up is Like a River by Carly Simon.

Carly wrote the song for her mother Andrea Simon, written just after her passing in 1994.

The song speaks of her mother’s spirit always being there for her and the family. It just how I feel about my mum. She saw all my boys but none of my grandchildren …she died years before they were born. She watches over them as she does over the whole extended family.

Like A River

Dear mother the struggle is over nowAnd your house is up for sale
We divided your railway watches
Between the four of us
I fought over the pearls
With the other girls
But it was all a metaphor
For what was wrong with us
As the room is emptying out
Your face so young comes into view
And on the back porch is a well-worn step
And a pool of light you can walk into

I’ll wait no more for you like a daughter,
That part of our life together is over
But I will wait for you, forever
Like a river…

Can you clear up the mystery of the Sphinx?
Do you know any more about God?
Are you dancing with Benjamin Franklin
On the face of the moon?
Have you reconciled with Dad?
Does the rain still make you sad?
Last night I swear I could feel you
Moving through my room
And I thought you touched my feet
I so wanted it to be true
In my theater there is a stage
And a footlight you can step into…

I’ll wait no more for you like a daughter,
That part of our life together is over
But I will wait for you, forever
Like a river…

In the river I know I will find the key
And your voice will rise like the spray
In the moment of knowing
The tide will wash away my doubt
‘Cause you’re already home
Making it nice for when I come home
Like the way I find my bed turned down
Coming in from a late night out.
Please keep reminding me
Of what in my soul I know is true

Come in my boat, there’s a seat beside me
And two or three stars we can gaze into…

I’ll wait no more for you like a daughter,
That part of our life together is over
But I will wait for you forever
Like a river…

I’ll never leave, always just a dream away
A star that’s always watching
Never turn away
We’ll never leave, always just a thought away
A candle always burning
Never turn away
The moon will hide, the tree will bend
I’m right beside you
I’ll never turn away.

My good friend Geoff Lepard wrote a wonderful book about his mum, Apprentice to my Mother I reviewed it here.

Here is an Acrostic Poem

MOTHER LOVE.

Mother love is selfless and deeper than the 

Ocean, boundless and undemanding  always 

There when you need it. No judgement or side taken

However far or expensive to pocket or heart.

Everlasting  and without question.

Ready always to love unquestionably.

Loyal and true always at the end of a phone

Open minded never judging or

Vengeful unless called to be on your behalf

Everlasting it’s there, Mother Love.

A new Home for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto. The first Challenge Behind the Door.

KL Caley at Novel Ideas has offered to take on Sue Vincent’s #writephoto as a weekly challenge now it has become too difficult for Sue to continue.

K.L. said : “I am sure so many of you will already know this wonderful story but a little over five years ago, the wonderful Sue Vincent of Daily Echo (and The Silent Eye) posted the most intriguing image:”

Beyond the Door – Image by Sue Vincent

The convent was surrounded by an ancient stone wall. For centuries there was no entrance or exit gate or door. Novices when first admitted had to use an old wooden ladder and take a leap of faith to enter. Food supplies and correspondence was pullyed over the walls by means of bucket and rope.

The nuns lived a complentative life, growing what they could and tending their animals and themselves with the minimum of contact with outside world. The had a well, a library, a hospital and they were self-sufficient. They survived plagues, the Refermation, world wars and up until now any influence from the modern world.

Suddenly one day the sound of stones being chiseled could be heard in the nearby fields. The press and media were alerted and rushed to see and report on what was happening. Over night a beautiful round door appeared in the wall.

The door was opened once, briefly, by a tiny little Nun who looked escance at the gathered media. She shook her head, slammed the door shut and locked it. Things carried on just as before. After a while the media gave up on the story.

The Eddystone Light House.

Yesterday I posted a popular Sea Shanty The Wellerman come. This in turn spurred Noelle Grainger at Sailing Away to do a post on the Shanty The Eddystone Light House, it’s a great post read it here.

Here is a great version of the Eddystone Light House from the Sea Shanty Blogger.

Thank you Noelle 💜💜💜

Thursday photo prompt: Appointed #writephoto

It’s Thursday and time for Sue Vincent’s #writepho, which I have to say, I am delighted to see back again this week.

It has been suggested that Sue use the ‘Mister Linky’ widget rather than having to create a full round-up list every week… which is a good thing as her treatments and hospital appointments tend to be on Thursdays…

Sue asks as an experiment, would we mind clicking the green Mr Linky logo on her page, by entering our name and link to our post then clicking the box to accept the privacy policy, then press enter… we can save her a lot of work.

When you click, it should look like this screenshot, but empty and ready for you to fill in:

***********

For visually challenged writers, the image shows the black silhouette of a crow perched atop a blackened and dead-looking tree. In the background the sky is blue and the trees are decked in the full green leaf of summer…

This week’s prompt ~ Appointed.

“Hey Crow what are you doing up there?” asked the small dog with the wagging tail. The crow, though , startled did not move at once. Taking a deep breath he pretended to look off into the distance.

“What are you doing up there, and why is that tree all black and dead like winter looking”. ….. “Go away hissed the crow” trying to retain a semblance of nonshalance. But the small dog would not go away, and the small dog would not be quiet, she was an inquisitive dog.

Crow looked to the horizon taking in the blue sky and fluffy clouds and sighed… All this is wrong he thought, the tree was the only thing that was right…..black and dead. The rest of the surroundings were to bright and that awful word …pretty.

The small dog kept asking questions in a loud bark! Crow just ignored her and wondered why she would not go. The worrying thing was he was on a completely different plane of existence to this small dog and they should not see eachother at all.

Suddenly a woman arrived over the brow of the hill, “Hey Girly” she called “what are you barking about.” After catching her breath she continued. “Ah! I see it’s a crow, hello Mr Crow how are you today”

“Bloody confused ” muttered the crow. The woman laughed, “A confused corvid sitting in a dead tree, well done Girly you’ve found it” “Found what?” asked the small dog.

The woman smiled and hugged the small dog. “The title of my next book, The well appointed crow” she smiled.

The crow clicked his beak and said “but you can’t see me I am not in your time”

Even better said the woman “The well appointed crow who wasn’t there!” She laughed again and the small dog barked. The crow said no more.

#JusJoJan prompt the 28th – “Storm”

“Storm, storm hold up why are you in such a mood?” Jim shouted at his sister as she stomped across the bar! As she went through the door into the street he caught up with her. “What’s with you, why the face and why were you so mad with that guy, do I need to punch his lights out? “

Storm turn to face her brother eyes flashing and red hair flailing around. “Why,” she shouted, “why did mum and dad call me Storm, I mean Storm for God’s sake it caused me nothing but hassle.” Jim smiled , you know sis it’s not your name it’s your temper that gives you all the grief, not your name! ” He looked her straight in the eyes and smiled, she smiled and then they both laughed. “Mum always said you were born the night of 15 October 1987, the night of Hurricane, the night Michael Fish said there was no storm comming but there was! ” “Yes ” Storm replied, “Dad was working away and mum went into labour! Trees down cars and debris flying around… mum whisked off to hospital, the ride from hell, she called it. You went into Mrs Tyson next door didn’t you.” Laughing Jim agreed.

“So you were called storm …just be grateful they didn’t pick Hurricane! God your tempers scary enough as it is!”

Photo by Tomaz Barcellos on Pexels.com

Part of LindaGHill’s Justjojan

#JusJoJan prompt the 4th – “Fingertips”

Fiction

Image from Pixabay.

The whole world lay at his fingertips, he had it all money, looks and talent. He had a beautiful house and people jumping on his every word. Sadly all this was just not enough, he was empty, unfulfilled.

He got up early and threw on the oldest clothes he could find and packed a few bits into a back pack he found in the back of a cupboard. In the kitchen he picked up several bottles of water and some energy bars.

He left the house before anyone was up. He walked down the pristine drive past his three outhouses , two housing his Rolls Royce and Ferrari collections and one his motor bikes, he took none. Past the tennis courts and the outdoor swimming pool through the gate and out into the world.

A week later the papers were full of the fact that Jared Stone the multi-million heir to the Stone fortune had disappeared. The police were concerned that there had been no activity on any of his bank accounts, cards or passport . He had simply disappeared. No trace, the papers said the family were concerned…… they were but unbeknown to the public only for business reasons.

Jared had walked for two days after which he had used up his supplies. He was wondering what to do as he had no money or cards and now that the original euphoria of being on his own had lost it shine and his supplies were exhausted. He was not going back but he did wish he had picked up a little cash.

He had been crossing fields for most of his journey but as he surveyed the horizon he saw a town. He decided to approach it. As he walked through the Main Street he saw a sign in the cafe window, HELP WANTED. Without a second thought he went through the doors and asked to see the manager. He sat at a table and waited for the manager to arrive. The place was heaving and the two waitresses on shift were rushed off their feet. Without a second thought Jared grabbed a tray and started clearing tables.

He’d always had a charming manner about him and he was soon chatting and laughing with the customers and staff. When the manger arrived he was surprised to see this handsome young man clearing tables and interacting with the customers.

Jim the manager offered Jared some lunch and asked him why he wanted to work in his cafe. Jared told him he needed a job as he’d run out of money on his travels and that he really wanted to work with people. Jim asked if he had anywhere to stay, he could see the lad was down at heel.

Two years later Jared woke up next to Libby he watched her sleeping for a while. He got up made the coffee and let the dogs out. Libby was expecting, he loved his job as manager of Jim’s Cafe and he loved the town . He smiled to himself he had the whole world at his finger tips

This is part of LindaGHill’s Jusjojan.

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