50 Word Thursday #28 – Wild Inspiration

 

Image by Bellinon from Pixabay

 

As the solitary creature blinked at him from the semi-darkness at the bottom of the garden, he realised that it was alive and not a statue, an ornament or some strange gnome.

In the ephemeral, intransigent moonlight, the animal let out an eerie wail and then scampered away, disappearing behind the compost heap.

He wasn’t sure what type of animal it was but it looked feral and a bit wild.

This moment of tension, this garden encounter was enough to clear his writer’s block and inspire him to start writing a story. “Let the Wild rumpus start,” said Maurice Sendak.

[100 Words]

This story was inspired by the 50 Word Thursday Challenge, this week hosted by The Haunted Wordsmith, click on the link below to see her post:

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2019/07/10/50-word-thursday-28/

 

I have also incorporated the following word prompts:

 

FOWC with Fandango — Alive

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/07/11/ephemeral/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/07/11/rdp-thursday-solitude-solitary/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/07/11/your-daily-word-prompt-inspire-july-11-2019/

Multiple Word Prompt Story – Honeymoon Discovery.

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/09/26/enthralling/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/09/26/your-daily-word-prompt-resplendent-september-26th-2018/

FOWC with Fandango — Surmount

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/09/26/wednesday-rdp-inspire/

 

 

As Lydia gazed out from her beach hut she saw the sky get gradually lighter. It faded from an indigo sky to a resplendent array of colours. The clouds were a combination of pink and orange which heralded the coming of the sun, still just beneath the horizon.

Then the Sun emerged and the sea and sky were bathed with is glorious light. The sight was truly enthralling. For anyone else, it would Inspire them, but Lydia was troubled deeply by a problem she felt unable to surmount.

Turning back to the beach hut, she saw her new husband lying on the bed, face down and snoring his head off. It was their honeymoon but she already realised something; She’d married the wrong man.

Why that revelation had come so late, she couldn’t say. It made her feel so foolish.

He had appeared so charming and amusing. She had discovered only last night that it had all been a façade. He was incapable of loving anything or anyone. He was cold and ruthless. Someone who saw what he wanted and took it without thinking or caring about the consequences.

She had been engaged to be married when she’d met him. He had swept her off her feet. Bombarding her with presents. A gold Rolex watch, a night at the opera, a weekend in Monte Carlo. Stephen couldn’t have provided her with those things, he was just a Junior in the City and Daniel had been his boss.

Last night he’d admitted that he had deliberately set out to take her away from Stephen. He found her attractive, but it was because he’d felt threatened by Stephen and wanted to demoralise him totally. How better than to take away the woman that he loved?

The cold-bloodedness of it had chilled her to her very marrow. She couldn’t comprehend how anyone could think like that; behave like that. It made her feel so stupid that she had fallen for his act.

Then, while she was still reeling from his revelation, he had expected her to perform her ‘wifely duties’ like she was a new toy he had purchased. She had refused to cooperate but he had insisted on exacting his conjugal rights.

As he snored, she gazed at the razor on the floor. The salt from the sea stang the slight nick in her neck he’d made with that razor as he’d held her down. The sting was nothing compared to the agony inside.  She looked at the razor longingly. So easy to slice a vein and end this torment.

Suddenly she realised that her husband’s snoring had stopped. Breathing heavily, she looked at him, was he awake already? No, his eyes were closed. She heaved a sigh of relief, but then realised that all was not right. His chest no longer rose and fell. The colour in his cheeks was wrong. Then she smelt the vomit that told her he had choked on it. She rolled him on to his back. This monster that had filled her with so much pain, that had made her consider suicide only moments before, she paused but for a moment and then did what any normal human being would do. She ran to get help.

Was it wrong for her to hope, despite doing the right thing, she’d be too late?

 

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 26/September/2018

A Strange Turn of Events – the Murder Mystery Continues

I started writing a murder mystery some time ago, we are almost at the end now. This is the next instalment.

If you want to read this story from the beginning click on this link:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2018/07/11/the-start-of-it-a-short-story-with-familiar-characters/

A strange turn of events

They were all standing in the room where a young man had apparently committed suicide and confessed to Murder.

Lady Audrey Patterson was still taking everything in. The boy was named Christopher Copeland and he had been a friend of her nephews, they both worked together in the Foreign Office. He had also been on friendly terms with Claudia Halifax, even though she was very much his elder. She had been found strangled nearly two weeks before. It looked like he had confessed to her Murder, but why did he do it? Did he also murder Elsie? Was he seeing both of them at the same time? Something felt wrong about this. He didn’t seem the type at all. Yes, he might be emotionally strained enough to commit murder, or suicide, she saw that much when she’d visited him the day before yesterday. He had been overcome with emotion and couldn’t stop crying. Did that drive him to this confession? No, this did not add up at all. He was not the type of boy to form attachments to two women at the same time, she was sure of that.

Sir Alfred was holding her arm in a supportive manner he said: “Everything’s going to be all right, my dear, don’t worry.”

Continue reading A Strange Turn of Events – the Murder Mystery Continues

50 Word Thursday #15 – Song of Sacrifice

Debbie Whittam has set a challenge to write a poem or story in 50 words, or multiples of 50 up to a maximum of 250 words, inspired by a picture and include some particular lines.

https://debbiewhittam.wordpress.com/2018/08/23/50-word-thursday-15/

Here is the picture:

23-08-18

Here are the words:

Tansy Rayner Roberts – Splashdance Silver

Here is my story:

Song of the Sacrifice

They dragged her through the woods towards the bonfire. Kassa could smell the smoke and the menthol oils from the burning logs. They had dressed her in symbolic white and her hands and feet had been bound.

They had come for her in the night. They had heard tales about her song. She sang to inspire others, there was no magic in the song itself.

The land was suffering from a terrible drought. No rain had fallen for four months. The earth beneath her feet was tinder dry.

A Man in robes came over to her, he had that intense look of a fanatic in his eyes.

“I’m not a songwitch” Kassa protested.

He laughed at her.

“We are going to put you in the Fire. Either your voice will summon the rains to put out the fire and save us all, or you will perish in the flames and hopefully, the rain god will accept your sacrifice and take pity on us all.”

They tired her to a post above the flames. She could feel the searing heat already lapping at her toes.

She opened her mouth, ignoring the fumes and sang her heart out. The song was like no other you had ever heard. It reverberated through the trees and reached inside of you to touch your very soul.

Suddenly, the heavens opened and poured life-giving water over the land, putting out the fire, saving her life.

Her tormentors were not so lucky. They perished in the floods.

The End

 

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 23/August/2018

 

https://fivedotoh.com/2018/08/23/fowc-with-fandango-inspire/

Picture of the day – More inspiration

This is a picture of the Japanese Garden in Holland Park, London.

It is a pretty tranquil spot in a busy part of London.

A garden is a special thing. It connects us to nature and often sited in the middle of a busy city as far removed from nature as it is possible to get.

It can also be, as this garden is, a way of bridging between cultures and countries.

This garden was a gift from the Japanese government to the british people.

A Japanese garden is very different from an English garden, but both are beautiful and both can bring peace in troubled times.