Manic Mondays 3-Way Challenge – The Ice Witch of Norway.

I thought it was time to repost this short story I wrote a couple of years ago on returning from a trip to Norway. The Word of the Day is Horrific, so I hope this story fits the bill.


This story was written in response to Laura M Bailey’s challenge. See Link:

You may also wish to read my previous entry for the 3-way challenge:


The Ice Witch of Norway

There was a Witch who lived in a simple hut in the mountains of the far north of Norway.

The Winters were long and harsh and ravaged the land between October and early May.

During the Winter months, the people huddled together in their wooden houses around the fire and prayed for the Spring.

The Witch lived alone in the hill and seemed to delight in the snow, dancing and capering on all but the most terrible snow storms.

People started to believe that this woman was responsible for bringing the winter that she seemed to enjoy so much.

It was her fault that the Winters were so harsh. It was her fault that the lambs and kids born early would perish in the late winter frosts.

After one particularly bad blizzard, the menfolk gathered in the beer house drinking the last of their precious brew.

“Something has got to be done!” Cried Olav Harkensson.

“She was out dancing again last night,” agreed Nils Thorssen, “There were lights flashing in the sky, bright greens. She was casting a spell. Bringing this storm down upon us, no doubt”.

As the menfolk talked and drank, they began to grow braver and more stupid. They no longer feared the magic that the Witch could bring down upon them. This winter had been particularly bad, it was nearly May and it was still not showing signs of departing. Eventually, they grabbed torches and pitchforks and went to find the witch.

The blizzard had passed but it was still snowing lightly as they climbed up the mountain path onto the high plateau where the Witch lived. Her hut was built near the steep side of a mountain, near a frozen waterfall and the snow-covered meadow that she danced in.

She must have sensed their presence because the door opened and she strode out, tall and proud to meet them.

Her long red hair caught in the wind and flapped around her white face. Her dark wool cloak also flapped like a banner in the cold icy air.

Defiantly she stood in front of her simple hut.

“What do you want?” She shouted in a clear voice that carried and echoed around the valley.

Olav Harkensson, who was the self-appointed leader of the group, stepped forward.

“Leave this place, you foul Witch and take this accursed Winter away with you!”

The Witch threw back her head and laughed.

“And what if I fail to acquiesce to your request? What will you do then?”

The angry mob drew back from the glare of her eyes. Some people made the sign of the cross across their fur-clad chests. A young firebrand by the name of Magnus Vigmir ran forward, either braver than the rest or drunker and threw his flaming torch at the Witch’s hut.

Despite the snow, the timber caught alight quickly and within a short moment, the hut was ablaze.

Boldened by this move, the men rushed forward brandishing their pitchforks.

Before they could reach her, the Witch wrapped her black cloak around her and transformed into an enormous raven.

The mob shouted in horror and clung to each other in fear like little boys.

The raven flew around them and the Witches voice called out.

“Fools, You Fools! It was not I who brought the Winter. The Winter clings hard to all the lands this far north, but I summoned the Spring every year followed by the Summer. I could only do this for a few months before Winter returned to claim what is rightfully hers. Now I will leave to find somewhere else to call home.”

The Raven flew away to the west and was never seen again. The Spring never came that year and the people either perished or moved further south and closer to the sea. To this day, that valley in the far north of Norway is known as the Valley of Eternal Winter.

The End

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 16/October/2018


Manic Monday’s 3 Way Prompt – Gift of your Heart.

This Story was written in response to Laura M Bailey’s Manic Monday’s 3-way challenge.

See Link:

You may also wish to read my previous entry for the 3-way challenge:


The Word: Heart


When my life was in a shambles

and I was totally in a mess

You’d put your arm around me

and take away my distress, 


You’d dried each jewel-like tear

with a tender, loving kiss

but greatest of all, my dear, 

it’s your laughter that I miss.


You gave your heart to me,

so peaceful, calm, at rest, 

But how I wish that it could be,

still beating hard within your chest.


Now you’ve gone, and I’m alone.

You promised we’d never part.

But your love for me has shown,

I will always have your heart. 


Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 19/November/2018



Manic Mondays – The Wrong Road – A lyric poem.


I have written this poem, which seems to have a song like quality to it (or is it just me?) for Laura M Bailey’s Manic Monday Challenge:


I arrive at life’s junction

I feel aimless, without function.

The roads lead off before me

Into futures, I cannot see.

So dark the path behind me,

I will not let my past bind me,

Into life’s adventure, I leap,

Trusting that I will find me.


My old infatuation

Brought no satisfaction

No reason, no reaction,

To my situation.

So, onwards I start walking

down roads without markings

Ever hopeful, without knowing,

If the path I take will break me,

Or hope, forsake me,

Take me forwards.


Of all the roads before me,

Only one road is the wrong one,

The one I must be the strong one,

To avoid.

In the dark storm of life,

All the other roads lead me through,

The Wrong road, is the one road,

That leads me back to you.


Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 11/February/2019

FOWC with Fandango — Reason



Manic Mondays – Imperfect World


You carved our name into the wood,

our initials are still where they once stood,

but where are you? Where did you Go?

Life gave hope, then death took a blow.


I have searched in a hopeless quest, 

to capture again, what was once the best.

I take umbrage from those careless words

Tis better to have loved and lost? Totally absurd.


Whatever intricate patterns

by Fate and her associate slatterns,

my future destiny has unfurled,

This will remain an Imperfect world.


Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 16/January/2019

FOWC with Fandango — Umbrage



Manic Monday’s 3 Way Prompt – End of Time.

Word Prompt: Shattered

Here is a poem that I have written today, in response to both Laura M Bailey’s Manic Monday challenge

If you’d like to read the poem that I wrote for last weeks challenge, click below:

A metamorphosis comes; a change it seems,

Seasons have ended and time has shattered,

Our days will end with silent screams

And what was feared turns out never mattered,

Resentment, Envy and immature dreams.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 07/January/2019

Manic Monday’s 3 Way Prompt – Past Reflection.


Prompt word: Reflect – reflecting – reflection

Here is a poem that I have written today, in response to both Laura M Bailey’s Manic Monday challenge and also Sheryl’s Your Daily Word prompt.

Sadly Sheryl writes that she has suffered a bereavement and so chose the word bereavement for her prompt. I am very sad to hear of her loss, and I have written this poem in response to show my sincerest condolences.

She looked in her car mirror,

That showed her a view of the rear,

and reflected on the path that she’d taken,

The one that had brought her here.


The journey had been a tough one

But she’d made it through the worst.

She won’t be the last person to make that trip,

And she knew she sure wasn’t the first.


She caught her face in the mirror,

The lines had increased with the years.

Each one a memory, some happy, some sad.

And her eyes became filled with tears.


She’d coped with a numbing bereavement,

The overwhelming sorrow and grief,

She knew you don’t quite get over it,

But she took comfort from her faith and belief.


She stopped looking at the past behind her,

And stared at the road out ahead,

Then she slammed her foot down on the pedal,

and shouted, “Let’s face the future instead.”

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 04/January/2019

Manic Monday’s 3 Way Prompt – Rejoice and Alleluia – A Poem


word prompt is:  Rejoice

This short story was written in response to Laura M Baileys Manic Monday prompt:

If you’d like to read the story I wrote for last weeks challenge, Click on the link below:

Rejoice and Alleluia.

Let’s have a big parade,

A Royal cavalcade,

Of marching bands

And swaying hands,

And banners that we’ve made.


And giant puppet goons,

Characters from old cartoons,

That dance and sway,

In a funny way,

And sing some favourite tunes.


Let’s rejoice and give a cheer,

and with good wishes, most sincere,

be thankful now,

Alleluia and Wow!

We’ve survived another year!

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 17/December/2018

Manic Monday’s 3 Way Prompt – I’d rather be Frozen than Wet – A Song.

Yes, I know it’s now Wednesday but I have got a little behind (No personal comments please 😉 ) 

I have written a Christmas parody song, I think you’ll be able to guess which song it is based on.

This Song was written in response to Laura M Bailey’s Manic Monday’s 3-way challenge.

See Link:

You may also wish to read my previous entry for the 3-way challenge:

The Word: FROZEN

I’d Rather be Frozen than Wet

Oh, the weather outside is Awful,

All this rain should be made unlawful

I stare at all this mud below

And cry, make it snow, make it snow, make it snow.


I worry I’ll end up drowning,

When instead I’d rather be clowning,

In a frozen land all white, aglow

Please make it snow, make it snow, make it snow.


I want to frolic in the frozen white.

I’d rather be frozen than wet.

I put money on snow on Christmas night,

and I really want to win my bet.


I want to light a warm winter fire

And drink Snowballs*, that’s my desire.

But the Woods too damp to make it so.

Please, make it snow, make it snow, make it snow.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 5th December 2018 with obvious tribute to Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne who wrote the wonderful song, Let it Snow.

Snowballs* are a drink made with Advocaat (similar to Eggnog) mixed with Lemonade, it is commonly drunk at Christmas by people who want to enter into the festivities but not drink anything strong. It is often the first alcoholic drink that children are allowed to drink (with more lemonade). 

I have also included the word RAIN:

Manic Monday’s Three Way Prompt – Patience Lost.

Yes, I know it’s now Tuesday!

This Story was written in response to Laura M Bailey’s Manic Monday’s 3-way challenge.

See Link:

You may also wish to read my previous entry for the 3-way challenge:


Patience Lost

How long did I sit there for? I lost track of the time

I looked at the clock on the wall and watched as the second hand ticked and the minute hand completed circle after circle. 

I had a glass of water next to me and I sipped it patiently. 

Patience is a virtue and one I usually lack, but there was something in the atmosphere in that dark place that just said, ‘wait, it will all be worth it, you’ll see’. 

Eventually, I felt I couldn’t bear waiting any longer and I stood up to leave

At that moment the heavy wooden door at the top of the stone steps swung open and in walked the person I had wanted to meet for so long. 

He was shorter than I expected, or maybe his advanced age was making him stoop. It was hard to tell, as he was wearing heavy black robes that swamped his body. 

“Going so soon?” The old man laughed but his eyes remained steely blue. His appearance had been a bit of a disappointment, but those eyes held all the power and knowledge that I’d been told about. That was what I had come for. Answers.

“Come, sit and tell me why you are here, and how. I want to know how most of all. Very few have ever found me before.” His voice was superficially friendly but it was like a silk cloth over a snake pit. 

He pointed back towards the chair and As I turned, the old leather chair had been joined by a second which I knew had not been there before. 

This was the man I was seeking. My quest had led me here, my search for power and knowledge. I had already learned so much. I had learned that this man was responsible for everything. He had the power to make life on earth as wonderful or as terrible as he liked. 

We sat down again and I turned to him. I couldn’t stop myself any longer. Finally, I lost patience and pulled out the dagger I had concealed in the lining of my coat and asked the one question I so desperately wanted to know before I took my revenge.

“Why did you let her die?”

The End.

copyright: Kristian Fogarty 27/November/2018

Manic Monday’s 3 Way Prompt – The Singer.

This Story was written in response to Laura M Bailey’s Manic Monday’s 3-way challenge.

See Link:

You may also wish to read my previous entry for the 3-way challenge:


The Word: Sultry.

The Singer

He sat at the back of the club like he always did. Despite the crowds and the smoke, he still had a good view of the stage. He’d reserved the table in advance and this was his fourth visit. He’d wanted to make sure. He waited patiently for the Singer to walk on stage. The audience erupted into applause before she’d even opened her mouth. She was clearly making a name for herself.

Leaning back into the shadows he watched her performance with rapt attention.

She moved in a sultry fashion across the floor, hips swaying in her floor-length red sequined gown. She reached forward to grasp the microphone with her hands encased in gloves that reached her elbows. Her long red hair covered her left eye in a parody of that actress of yesteryear, Veronica Lake, herself parodied by the cartoon character Jessica Rabbit.

She had changed her name and her hair colour, but Claudia Van Horn was definitely the woman he had been searching for. He got a thrill listening to her familiar voice as it sang a skilful rendition of that old classic ‘Stormy Weather’. She had lost none of her technique.

He had found her again, after searching for so many years. He knew that no court order would keep him from finding her. No police protection programme could have kept her from pursuing her calling on the stage. His intentions, though benign at first, had been twisted by her rejection of him into something purely comminatory.

He took out his wallet and dropped a few notes on the table, he was feeling generous, then he slipped out of the nightclub, remaining in the shadows.

His handsome even features distorted in a smile that did not improve his appearance but gave it a bestial cast.

He couldn’t wait to see the surprised look on her face.

The End

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 12/November/2018


FOWC with Fandango — Parody