Janus

IMG_20190630_233027_optimized

He was always two faced she said. He does one thing and says the opposite. When he said he was going to cut down the tree I knew he wouldn’t.

Yes, said her friend, he tells you things that can’t be true. I don’t know why he does it.

The two women continued chatting while the man they were talking about stood in the shadows of the trees and listened. He knew they were right, but they had never asked why.

He had been ill for years, not visibly, but inside, the kind of thing that you didn’t talk about. A depression that had encompassed his whole adult life.

He felt compelled to cut down the tree now. He’d said he would but the birds were nesting. He was going to wait for a few weeks till they had flown the nest. But the women’s words had stung him.

He was found the next morning under a limb of the tree. Crushed and battered. No one went to his funeral, except one middle aged woman. She remembered their life together when they were young. She stood and walked away as the coffin disappeared behind the crematorium curtains. His tale would never now be told, she thought.

The lake.

DSC_0339

The lake looked inviting, the sun was breaking through the clouds and the water was still. Gentle ripples from the slight breeze disturbed the surface.

No one else was around. She had been sitting on the sun terrace and had fallen asleep in the hot sun. Now she was awake and hot. A paddle in the water would be nice and cooling. There was a sloping beach at one end of the lake. She put on her sandles and walked round the edge of the lake.

Walking over pebbles the water rose round her ankles then her knees. Blissful cool water lapped around her.

She stood quietly for a while then started to splash the water up to cool her face, arms and body. It felt so good that she slipped down into the water. Kicking off her sandles she started a slow breast stroke out towards a wooded island a few meters off in the distance. She knew there was a bench in the shade there. Her thin skirt billowed out behind her and she felt relaxed and like she was floating in space.

Then it happened. The skirt snagged on something, weeds? She was a strong swimmer and didn’t think it was a problem. She swung round to pull at her skirt. A hand grasped her wrist and she felt herself being pulled down…..

A hat full of stones

_20190803_160425

You daft ‘aipath! What you doin’ collectin’ stones in yer at?

I wanted em fer th’garden. Twill make a nice dressin’ ont top of the pots.

Yer an owd idiot Mon! Yer ed’s full o’ gravel dust now don’t yer know?

Yer ed’ must be rattlin’ like an old stone path being walked on, yer numpty.

Oo you callin’ a numpty? If tha’dud na like me, why dids’t tha marry me?

Becowse I luved yer. An thays the  truth o’it.

Trying to write in some sort of dialect. Apologies for it.

Light through clouds

DSC_2252

In the forest it was gloomy, rain had been falling all day, and a grey swirling cap of clouds seemed to sit just above the treetops.

As she walked into the clearing she looked up. No sign of sunshine. It was almost as dark there as under the trees. At least there was a pool which looked clear. She had got a camping stove and would soon be able to make a hot drink. This then would be her camping spot for the night. Only another 20 miles to her destination.

Then as she prepared her evening meal, the clouds started to part and light streamed into the glade.

The light seemed to trigger movement. All around her the ground seemed to lift up into humps which turned into writhing figures in human form. They had been held down by green tendrils of leaves. The green men. An ancient myth. She screamed as she realised they were surrounding her, mirroring the surrounding trees. Tendrils reaching out and pinning her to the ground. She had realised too late that they were carnivorous plants.

The clarity of sea and sky

clarity

Sue Vincent’s challenge.

The clarity of my memory was funny, it came and went, but I felt certain that I had been on this beach, in this bay, before.

Perhaps it was the scent of the sea, seaweed, and the aromatic plants on the shore that took me back. Or the azure water, the sandy beach or the dark craggy rocks that caught in the folds of my memory.

Yes, the island in the far distance, in my memory I clearly saw a lighthouse there. Not visible here, but as you sailed out beyond the headland it would come into view, built of the hard stone that makes up the coast. On stormy nights it saved many a sailor, and its booming voice could be heard on foggy days and nights.

Now I remember with clarity why I was there. There is a cave just beyond the tideline. I’d been snorkeling in the bay and found a small chest, iron clad and rusted shut. The cave had seemed a good place to hide it. I was only eleven and it was exciting to hide a treasure chest. Plus my brother would have claimed it if I’d shown it him.

Now it was thirty years later, was it still there?

…….

The dubloons had bought me my yatch. Now I am free to visit the bay any time I want.

Tears

IMG_20190717_004626_494

She cries quietly in a corner, there is no violence, no words to cut, no cruelty to endure. But she can see the changes. She can see the hesitation in his words, the slight tremor in his voice. Age is wearing him away more quickly than they had hoped. She was almost a decade younger than him. Would she retire and be able to spend quality time with him, or would it be too late to have a life. One where they could be together like they once were, reading each others thoughts, finishing each others words.

It’s been a few years, but each day he has drifted into his own mind and out of reality. Falling deeper into despair and dragging her down too.

That’s why she cried.

That word

FB_IMG_1555027885103

Brexit. Such a difficult thing.

I’m trying to work out how to explain Brexit and why I think it’s bad. So I tried to come up with an analogy and chose ice cream… Yum.

Imagine your country had a vote to take back control. The plan is to give free ice cream to everyone. There will be no rules except for ones we set ourselves…

Free ice cream everyone, yipee…

But the farmers are worried as they will get no revenue as the government want the ice cream but don’t want to pay the farmers. People won’t be able to get milk because it is all going on ice cream. Then we realise that if we keep our promise (it was democratic after all) children and adults will start getting obese. People will start getting type two diabetes. People will have an increased risk of cancer…

But it was democratic. The people decided, ice cream for all. Now we could do that, but because of tariffs on flavouring the only flavour available for poor people is synthetic vanilla, made in a non EU country, and to get that we must sell off our farms to that country. So we have all these problems, plus we won’t get subsidies that helped our farmers, especially in the parts of the country that suffer poverty and blamed the EU for it. The ice cream is made, but its not free, the EU won’t help (why would they?) and the ice cream industry goes into recession. Why would you vote for that? A non political party of the ice cream is started, and take seats in Europe, but their plans are very right wing, like insisting on only white ice cream, no chocolate. Things get worse… But 52% voted for it so it must be OK…? Right ?

Harpers Titchy Theatre

DSC_2015

16 short stories and poems, 11 authors, 6 readers, 1 host. We all had fun listening to many and various tales this afternoon. I wrote three very short pieces which I think I have already posted on here. It’s great to hear people laughing at your jokes and punchlines.

More about the day to follow later.

X

Scales

IMG_20190712_162111_405

Dragon care:

Make sure your dragons scales are kept in tip top condition. Use ‘Dddragon polish’ (tm). Uses gold dust and magyc oil to give them that gleam.

Ice cubes on the underside of the elbows will reduce inflammation (also known as flight elbow).

A spoonful of honey in a gallon of alder oil is good for your dragons throat after a hard day’s flaming.

Remember to wear woollen underwear, it may be hot and itchy but it prevents burns during dragon jousting.

When attempting barrel rolls or loop the loops ensure you have your stirrups in ‘high hitch’ position.

Dragon racing is for professionals. No parachutes are allowed but wing suits are acceptable.

Finally, dragons are not allowed to drink alcohol. The tragic consequences are well documented historically.

Cat in fog

sketch-1561464310667

A thick fog was hanging over the land, damp and white and still. We had been on a walk over bthe moors, my boots were sodden, my glasses had puddles in them. The tussock grass made for hard walking, trying to hop from tussock to tussock, often ending ankle deep in the murky water between the tussocks.

Now we had come to a stony path, but it wound up and down with no obvious way signs to show us where we were. Neither of us had a compass, and with this fog you could not tell East from West. The sun was invisible in the murk but it was getting colder and later. It must be five o’clock at least.

Suddenly we heard a mew, then another one. A cat appeared out of the billowing fog.

I leant down and stroked its ears, hello kitty I said, where’s home? Where did you come from?

The cat twitched it’s tail, and rubbed it’s head against my hand. It miaowed. Then it trotted off a little way, sat down and looked back towards us.

Shall we? he said, shall we follow it? What else can we do, we aren’t going to easily find our way back to the car.

By now the cat was standing and mewed again. Come on I said, before it disappears.

The cat started trotting off again, stopping and looking back every few yards. We followed, trying to keep it in sight through the mist and lowering light levels.

The cat left the path and jumped up onto a stile, dropping down the other side into the gloom. Well, we thought, let’s try.

Over a pasture and through a shallow stream, the cat jumping across stepping stones. Up a slight slope and into a patch of old oak trees.

Suddenly a wall loomed out of the thick fog. Spider webs wet with droplets of water.

A farm house, the cat walked to to the front door and scratched at it. Then it jumped up on a box and climbed in through an open window. We knocked on the front door and waited…..