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Four Wasted Days.

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Rochelle’s newest prompt is live #FridayFictioneers have on loan the picture below, many thanks to Yvette Prior who owns copyright. Click HERE to read more or join in the fun.

Charlotte looked at her coffee table disgusted. In the otherwise pristine apartment the table was Alien to her. Clutching her head in her hands she rocked, gently wiped her face with an old sodden dicarded tissue. She threw it as viciously as anyone could. Another fad diet from her latest magazine, four days of cigarettes, whiskey and sugar lay next the vomit bowl. How gullible am I that I would even try it, she cried. Charlotte only needed to lose two stone to fit in the bridesmaids dress, to be perfect for once. Or so she thought.

Have you gone to etreeme’s to lose weight? Been sucked in by bogus fad diets? I would love to hear from you, drop it in the comments I will get back quick smart!

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Overheard At A Festival.

They sat Cross-legged on a black bin bag outside a wigwam tent. One, who was blonde, twisted the others hair, the recipient, a redhead, with her neck arched back and eyes closed, swayed gently and softly moaned. A ray of sun caught them in its early morning glow, last nights downpour glistened like glass beads all around them. I watched from a seat under our Motor home’s awning. They talked about blokes and bands, but still kept the tone smooth, hushed and gentle; perfect for the time of day. I surmised, they had been childhood friends by the way they were together.

Musicians warmed up on the distant stage, ‘one two one two click, click, click.’ Across the airwaves. Waking late-night revellers from their stupor bought on by excess.

The smell of bacon wafted across the camp. A clanking of pans, loud yawning and noisy stretches broke the quiet. It wasn’t long until groups of pyjama clad girlie’s in Wellington boots linked arms giggling as they picked their way to the bank of smelly toilets; still full from yesterday. Towel draped couples made their way to showers and dogs cocked legs against tent poles and wheels.

I felt the mood alter slightly between the two, my people watching mode is sensitive to the slightest change. Now beaded and braided the red-head snatched and shook the plaits, that made the beads tap, she giggled and thanked her friend. The blonde girl plucked two cereal bars from the pocket of a coat and offered it up for breakfast. On taking the bar she swigged water and wiped the bottle with her palm. As she passed it across she said in a clear voice. “I sell my poo on the dark web.” Blondie paused, (one of those audible teeth sucking pauses) tilted her head to stare in the others face. Taken aback, I craned my neck, strained so as not to miss a thing. “Did you hear me?” she said flicking out with her hand. “I sell my poo on the dark web.” I wanted to tell you ages ago … “It pays for medicinal cannabis and henna … just once in a while.” Blondie nodded as she listened, then jerked, her hands froze mid-roll, tobacco fluttered across her Bedouin birthing pants, she swiped angrily with her palm at the debris. Standing up, jangled her ankle bracelets as she kicked her bare feet. “For fuck sake Mia, is that what’s in the cool-box? You’re sick.” Both walked in the direction of the music. I watched until flamboyant hand gestures were all that was left to see.

The Husband burped from the bedroom a morning greeting. Somehow my watching was more disturbed by that … than the notes I penned in my notebook. ‘Overheard at a festival.’ reading it back, I wonder if someone nearby could be writing about me; earwiging, and The Husband’s morning greeting …

The blue-haired lady is how I imagine myself being, all modern, slim, elegant and carefree (dreaming). All photos are by way of Pixabay and from WordPress’s free photo library.

Was it only me who knew or knows nothing of `The dark web?’ What is the most random thing you have overheard? Answers in the comments, please. I can’t wait to read. 😆😅

I popped this on Esme’s senior salon press HERE to share your post or read others

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Under The Sod

Picture prompt.

Under the sod lay Jake; my first love. For forty years the grass grew fertile and green. He went unnoticed … until.

Barney moved in, a lodger I said, but it wasn’t long before, he was sharing my bed. He was persistent, I was lonely and had space. Barney was a twinkler and had a nice face. At sixty I didn’t expect … stuff, to happen to me.

That Summer a heatwave killed the grass; revealing a shape. Coming back from shopping I was shocked to see. Jake poking out and Barney’s head looking at me. From a hole in the lawn.

Use the picture prompt to write 100 words. PRESS to join in.

Picture prompt was lent only for the use of the #FridayFictioneers by Ronda Del Boccio.

Did you think she had murdered a bloke? Did the reverse twist catch You? Tell me talk to me.

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Summer Tag.

I always loved Tag as a kid, today I am responding to a set of questions for those of us in the wonderful Facebook group .

https://m.facebook.com/groups/SharingInspiringBloggers/?ref=gs&fref=gs&dti=169304370376175&hc_location=group

Here are the Questions and of course my answers.

SIPB Summer tag.

My favourite holiday destination.

is Lerici in Italy, i is where the natives holiday, where The Husband took me on our first holiday as a “couple”.

My favourite childhood memory of summer.

Sand in sandwiches (that is how they got their name … well I thought) tin bucket and spades, three sisters the parents and me. Splashing about, being scared in case the undertoad got me… I didn’t ever see one; though I looked.

Which do you prefer ice-cream or frozen yoghurt.

Ice-cream, but this girl never says no to any Dairy.

What is your go to dinner on a hot summer evening? Feel free to share the recipe!!

Spatchcocked chicken, roasted with butter, herbs, garlic and lemon under the skin.

Served with steamed baby new potatoes, Asparagus tips, tiny corn cobs, all in a dish. Crumble Wensleydale cheese over the mix of potato and veg. Put in the already hot oven until cheese melts a little, then serve Alfresco with a light rose wine. Magnificent!

https://www.google.co.uk/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/videos/techniques/how-spatchcock-chicken-video&ved=0ahUKEwitoJ-3o9vcAhVUe8AKHQFoA78Qo7QBCCUwAA&usg=AOvVaw2ruclixgpBudl3q1AEvX4B

What is your favourite BBQ food!

Due to having been diagnosed with Haemochromatosis last year. I am restricted to chicken or white fish, but I now make a Mexican style bean burger and home made slaw, so I join in and love the ambience created by a barbecue with family and friends.

A song/s that take you back to an amazing summer.

Andre`a Bocelli’s Mi Manchi.

Our song. The Husband took me to watch him live, singing in his home town, in his own outside theatre, amongst the Tuscan hills.

How do you beat the heat in the summer?

I don’t, I just go with it, lucky to be alive experiencing the sun on my bones the air on my skin.

Do you prefer swimming in the ocean or a pool?

Float, I float in the Ocean. Not a swimmer, medically I mustn’t get too tired 😢😡

What is your preferred summer vacation. Travel with family? Solo? or Friends?

The Husband and I, in the motor home, working our way from England to Italy. Finding new places to stop, new people to watch; making memories.

So flip-flops or barefoot?

Either, I love barefoot and am always at home. But on sand flip-flops stop the sand burning my feet.

SIPB peeps your are it! Tag!!

Now it is your turn. Cut and paste the questions, answer in a post on your blog then link to Reshare. https://www.facebook.com/groups/SharingInspiringBloggers/ It is a super group if you want to join in follow the link join the group and make A Summer tag post. Good luck and hope to see you there.

  1. What is your favourite Summer holiday destination?
  2. What is your favourite childhood memory of Summer?
  3. Which do you prefer: ice-cream or frozen yogurt?
  4. What is your go-to dinner on a hot Summer evening?
  5. What is your favourite BBQ food?
  6. Share a song that takes you back to an amazing Summer
  7. How do you beat the heat in the Summer?
  8. Do you prefer swimming in the ocean or a pool?
  9. Do you prefer to travel with family, friends or solo?
  10. Flip-flops or barefoot?

I’m Only Human After All

This is a revisited story one that deserves a second glance … or that is what I think. I hope you feel the same. 😇

I called out, but his name lodged below my voice box; like a bubble, it floated until it popped. Slowly I turned back the bed, cotton sheets held at arms length, the smell of stale lovemaking sweat and perfume. Bare feet kissed the wooden floors leaving a mist; an impression of where I walked. Across the room down to the utility with my arms full. Once the wash was loaded, I glanced down, my nose twitched at the stench, my mouth sticky, I dry retched and memories flooded back. I peeled my dishevelled stained nightshirt from my aching self and it joined the sheets. My mind was busy trying not to think as I scrubbed and soothed my flesh, steam covered the pointless tracks on my cheeks as Rag n Bone man’s lyrics pounded over the sound of the shower. ‘I’m only human after all.’ I dropped a pill, swigged stale coffee left on the drainer and sat wrapped up in a towel. The dusk alerted the back of my mind it Snook in to disturb my … nothing, my emptiness.

This was ridiculous I am a grown woman Out loud I said ‘pull yourself together’. For the next week or so I was working on auto, walking to work doing my admin answering when I had no choice, until Friday night. Backpack on ready for home I felt him watching. A damp trickle formed between my breasts as I scanned left to right, I knew he was there somewhere. Head down, my shoes slapped against the damp tarmac, three, four, slap, slap, counting, walking determined not to be startled. ‘Hi toots, I thought it was you, fancy a drink?’ His voice hit my eardrums, but I was ready. I let a smile touch my lips for a second. ‘No thanks, busy busy’ I strode on. He was almost jogging alongside me, breathlessly he stopped me with a ‘Hey hey what’s the hurry, he stooped in front of me. Come on, we can continue where we left off.’ He twisted a strand of hair by my cheek, he bent further to peer into my face. ‘I said, I am busy, now please just’ I snatched my shoulder from his grasp and carried on. I didn’t look back, slow down or think about him, I just allowed my feet to pound the pavement slap, slap, slap. Ashamed that’s what I was, ashamed and regretful and I couldn’t accept what it was I had done.

Weeks had passed since he met me from work but I still felt uneasy, he hadn’t called or text or poked me on Facebook, but still, I was wary. Maybe he didn’t know my name either, I couldn’t remember him using it.

Ange and Jack had been arranged for months, dinner with friends, that would get some normality back. I tousled my hair and dressed casual but nice, I pouted in the mirror checking my lippy, I was the most relaxed I had been for a month or more. After fajitas, we had tequila and chilli chocolate buns with mallow topping; her food amazing as always. Ange and I laughed and reminisced about school, Jack cleared up and Ange and I began to talk freely. ‘What’s doing girly? You have been somewhere else for a while, I thought we trusted each other. I tell you every grizzly detail; like we always have.’ She nudged me, her head shook in disbelief, her eyes clouded over and she bit her lip. Just then Jack called through, he was walking to the pub, leaving us to our stuff, as he called it, while he indulged in a lary game of pool. Ange followed for a kiss. I saw them in the mirror’s reflection. As she grinned and mouthed thanks, she closed the door. ‘Well … I’m listening’. She did that thing, that glaring eye staring, folding arm thing that she does when she’s mad. ‘Nothing to say really, I just, well I was stupid, a slut and I, I’m ashamed. After Todd and I finished I felt lost, God that is so cliché, but I didn’t feel attractive or wanted.’ I dropped my head in my hands, roughly rubbed my cropped hair and grunted. Ange plopped on the edge of the chair with me, rubbed my shoulders as I released a howl so guttural I startled myself. ‘C’mon you’ll feel better, I won’t judge you-you know me better than that’.

I scrubbed my face with my palms and wiped them down my thighs. ‘I went to that club, the one on the corner, the one with the tattooed bouncer, the cute gay guy. I had some  Jeager bombs and I began to dance, winding myself round guys legs, rubbing up behind them. They didn’t know me; nor me them.’ I leapt up and paced the floor. ‘It was sort of freedom, a liberating, sexy … I know, a slutty thing to do. The bouncer Jason, pulled some guy off me for stuffing his hand up my skirt. He tried to call a cab but I wasn’t having any of that. In my head, I was showing Todd, even though he wasn’t there, couldn’t see. My heart was racing as I dropped into the seat again. ‘Next thing I knew is I kissed this guy. He mouthed a wafer under my tongue … don’t get me wrong I wanted, I was reckless. I’ve been having flashes come back to me of the stuff we did, the table, the kitchen, outside the front door for god’s sake.’ That’s not all. He met me from work one night, a week or so later, it freaked me out. How could I be so stupid?’ Ange’s eyes grew as she listened with her lips clenched tight. ‘Don’t worry,’ I patted her hand. ‘it was fine, he just wanted more. He hasn’t been back.’ After a minute I looked at her holding her hands. ‘I’ve been petrified Ange, I took him to my home! The things we did.’ I shook my head and looked at Ange’s horrified face. ‘ Don’t say anything, I can’t cope with your disgust too.’ We sat for a while with a box of tissues between us, Ange crying for and with me. Me crying out of self-pity and shame. ‘I went to the clinic on Duke Street and had tests, well you just don’t know, do you. I find out in a fortnight … so far, several are back and I’m clean, just waiting on Hepatitis and HIV. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you never spoke to me again.’

We cleared the dinner debris and emptied the dishwasher, although together, it was completed in silence. We made coffee and Jack came in the front door, pink-cheeked, smiling and relaxed. He looked from one to another, pulled a face, pouted his bottom lip and said ‘I am going up, night then’ and he gently closed the door.

Red-eyed and nervous I said ‘I can not cope without your friendship, please don’t hate me’. I held both her hands and stared into her face. ‘For the last time I will not ever, hate you, but I am hurt, hurt because I was too busy to see the effect Todd’s affair had on you and because you felt you couldn’t come to me. I let you down and you put yourself at risk’. I hugged her hard and stroking her hair said. ‘Sometimes, we do stupid things, sometimes, it is no one’s fault but our own and sometimes we are lucky enough to walk away unscathed. I Jane Masters, head of finance, single thirtysomething female, should have known better! but I won’t get it wrong twice. As the song says … ‘I’m only human after all.’

Flower photo borrowed /thieved temporarily from Geoff LePard I thank you, Geoff. Press here to visit the master🔜 here🔚

A new venture into a different genre yet again inspired by the magnificent Rag n Bone man song I hope you enjoyed both the song and the story I look forward to your comments *waves*.

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Forest Child.

Sue Vincent invites you to join in press here to leave your piece or read many imaginative others.

Today’s word is track.

Some say those that were born here have … the thing. The magic of the forest, sap running through veins, nooks and crannies, corners that hold secrets. A quirky look at life, grounded in soil and mulch.

I was born of this place, in the cottage hospital on the edge of Savernake forest. An ancient wood 2750 acres of mystery and as you would expect history. As a child, I once was found sleeping at the foot of the Great Bellied Oak.

Fred liked to walk with his girls through the forest, when time allowed,The youngest would no doubt need carrying before the track had stopped its meandering. The day was sunny and all was lush, branches flicked light this way and that, birdsong was full-throated all in all he thought, its a good day for a walk.

Me, the three-year-old, me, loved to walk the most, but my chubby legs would not always keep up with the want to finish. That was when Daddy’s arms helped out and shoulder high I would grab his ears to hold on and soak in the atmosphere. Shafts of light threw colours or that was what Dad said, I knew it was something special. My sisters four and six didn’t really want to walk but we all loved Daddy and his treats. The story goes that I had held daddy’s hand until we stopped to share a picnic; a bag of Smiths crisps with a twist of salt and a bottle of Orangina. Three straws he pulled from his handkerchief pocket we sat on Dads tweed Jacket three little bums; eyes as big as saucers. Once the feast was over we stood so he could shake his Jacket. Like a magician, he pulled a white paper bag stuffed with soft Pontefract cakes from his cap. I remember how we oohed and ahhed, how he did the Dad magic, producing a perfect round Pontefract coin from behind our ears.

This is where our stories differ, (Dad’s version) the sisters playing chase ran off the track, I couldn’t keep up my legs were far to short for his turn of foot. So he told me to wait and not move from the spot and he’d return as quickly as he could. (My recollection) My feet could not go fast enough as I was swept behind a frightened Dad through the forest, my hands wet from licking the liquorice from my fingers slipped free, and I fell with a bump. When I woke Dad was not there, I was laying on a bed of moss at the foot of the Giant oak. A voice whispered as I sat up; ‘do not be afraid child, we forest folk always look after our own.’ I looked around but could not see anything more than a wisp of colour flash by my head. Daddy, with one sister under each arm, was struggling to walk and calling my name. I told a very cross face that he wasn’t to worry his head, the forest folk took great care of me, when you were gone.

Our stories have like Chinese whispers altered with the years, but last week was the first time I returned to that spot. Now a road is next to the Old Big Bellied Oak, and the A346 south of Caudley trundles caravans and cars by oblivious to the magic.

Were you born somewhere magical? Or have you visited such a magical place? leave me a comment I love to converse.