I wrote this poem back in 2019 long before the current pandemic, it’s interesting how, having experienced what we have, it seems to have changed how I feel about this poem…..
The Word of the Day is Statue and so I thought it would be worth sharing it again, but hadn’t appreciated how the circumstances had changed how it reads.
Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com! You registered on WordPress.com 3 years ago.
Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging.
I have received a message from WordPress wishing me a Happy Anniversary.
It was three years ago today that I started my Blog.
I had just begun a creative writing course and I wanted an outlet for my writing, I’d read an article that mentioned WordPress and this seemed like fate was giving me a nudge.
I am a bit of a technophobe and yet WordPress made it all easy.
It’s been a strange journey the last three years but I have come so far.
I admit that my initial energy has turned rather lukewarm and I am not writing as much lately, but I do hope that this changes soon and I start getting into a better routine with more time for writing.
I will be posting some of my earliest posts. It will be interesting to see if my writing style has developed at all 🙂
Thank you to all my followers for joining me on my journey.
And the words: “Vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule.” ― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
He glanced out of the narrow window at the ships anchored in the harbour. This was the scene that had greeted his eyes every day of his life and it had inspired him to write several novels. Many of his books had Piracy as the main theme. He’d written many of the men who had come off those ships into his novels, embellished to represent a pirate king or a kidnapped victim.
The book he was currently working on was particularly challenging. It was a story or revenge and books about vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule. However, he also knew that brevity was key. People’s attention spans nowadays were shorter and novels were often half the size they used to be. He decided to use a mechanism that was the retreat of many authors faced with this problem. He would use flashback to condense a long time into a handful of pages.
He began writing furiously and with a smile he placed his pen down at the end. He knew he’d penned another great novel. If only there were enough people around who could actually read. The Covid pandemic had killed all the teachers.
[200 Words]
This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge.
His body lay in the gutter. He could feel the hard cobblestones, but the discomfort they caused was nothing next to the pain of the wound in his side. Stabbed by a Knife. It was Ironic he should end this way, bleeding to death in the street. The rain washed the blood away and with it, his life ebbed.
He took one last look at the London street, lit by gaslight that guttered in its glass lamp.
And the words: “Some days expand, Mona thought; their seams stretch and they hold more than a day’s worth of time.” – This Must Be The Place – Kate Racculia
It seemed like the perfect Valentine’s day. Her boyfriend had paid for a night in a luxury hotel in a picturesque village and also a chauffeur to drive them to a local beauty spot.
He had woken her early and they had sat on their balcony and watched the sun rise and shared a bar of chocolate, not quite all of which melted in their mouths.
After breakfast, the driver had arrived with a huge grin on his face. There was something about him Mona did not like, something they preyed on her mind. He seemed quite jolly as he drove them to a remote and secluded place where a long stretch of sand met the sea. He even sang to them. Mona hoped that this was part of the service because she didn’t think it was worth paying extra for. She could only take so much more of ‘Spanish eyes’ sung just off key.
Some days expand, Mona thought; their seams stretch and they hold more than a day’s worth of time.
Then things started to go wrong. After taking just one sip of champagne, her boyfriend began to choke and passed out.
As she tried to resuscitate him, she looked over at the chauffeur who was still grinning.
“How can you be so cheery at time like this?” she shouted.
“Oh, I just love my job and my hobby” he replied.
“And what’s your hobby then?” Mona asked, with some trepidation.
“Butcher” he replied as the axe swung.
[250 Words]
This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge, hosted by Deb Whittam.
You have until Wednesday if you want to take part, click on the link.
and here are the words: ‘Although it was a simple thing to be doing, something strange was happening.’ – Paulo Coelho – The Valkyries
I’d decided to make the most of my freedom. I’d no lectures today, no tutorials or dreary sessions in the library reading about Einstein’s theory of relativity. This was my first real day of freedom since lockdown had ended and that deadly virus, so persistent, had finally rescinded to controllable levels.
It had left it scars. I still avoided crowds where possible and I don’t think any of us would ever feel the same again.
Today I went to Greenwich to bask in the history or my scientific forebears. I’d wandered around the observatory where scientists of old had gazed through their telescope and seen the glories of a distant planet.
Then I sat and had a picnic on the green.
I gazed in dreamy contemplation across at the building in the distance topped by a triangle, really a pyramid and although it was a simple thing to be doing, something strange was happening.
It seemed as though those scientists who had walked this ground were passing on their knowledge and mixed with my own studies of theoretical physics I suddenly had a ‘Eureka’ moment and, without an apple like Newton, I had worked out how to travel through time!.
[200 words]
This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday challenge posted last week. Today is the last opportunity to take part.
” … grabbed the pistol from me and fired it into the couch.” – Louisiana Longshot – Jana DeLeon
We sneaked into the old place careful not to make any sounds that may awaken the neighbours. Most of the folks who lived round here were practically in their grave, and the person who used to live in this bungalow had already gone on ahead.
Uncle Peter had never cared for a soul except himself. We knew that because when our parents died and they’d asked him in their will to look after them, he’d just packed us off to the orphanage.
Now we figured we’d be entitled to his cash. He’d hardly been a good example of a generous man and we suspected his cash was around somewhere.
I stood there with my gun in my hand and asked my brother, “Where do you think he’s hidden the loot then?”
He grabbed the pistol from me and fired it into the couch.
And the Words: “It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.” – H.G Wells, The Time Machine
She woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. The dream had been so real. She shook her boyfriend awake, who was snoring beside her and described her dream.
“I dreamt I saw a church with an obscure 8-sided tower. A priest came running after me and told me it was the end of the world. People started screaming and the sky turned black.”
Her boyfriend responded sarcastically, “It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.”
The next day they left their hotel room to explore the town and walked down a side street they’d never been before. Her boyfriend held her hand tightly, in his overly protective way that she hadn’t made an issue of, but she stared back in amazement at the obscure 8-sided church tower and she knew what was going to happen next.
[150 Words]
This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge:
