The Documentary.

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Twigs snapped, right then left. Feet pounded and thumped against the parched forest floor. Sounds ricochet as they bounced off trees the echo distorting their direction. Crunch and snap, a rush of air squealed from twisted lips; lungs under pressure.

In my hide I watched the bazaar event unfold. A whoosh of wind lifted dust in a raging swirl; obscuring my view. A flash of red appeared in the clearing. Bent over, the writhing snarling beast set to work. Claws poised, jaw extended, thrusting, slurping and gnawing under the scarlet cloth.

An abrupt silence filled my head. Only the sound of my recording equipment quietly whirled; silent enough to go undetected by the creatures I usually document. I knew in that four minutes, what the people of Pompeii must have felt. Stock still, afraid a flutter of my lashes would alert my presence.

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It raised itself to its full height, turned with speed, the cloth fell leaving me shocked at the reveal. A crown of golden hair spilt free. It froze, cocked its head, alert, wired ready to pounce.

It shockingly spat a mouthful of guts and pulled a blood-soaked forearm across its mouth. All the time its green glowing eyes seemed focused on my hide. I watched, holding my breath as the evil being, shook, flicked its head and changed into a female youth. At her feet the remnants of a huge wolf.

I daren’t move, my life depended on the skill of holding my breath. She wiped her face and hands on the fallen cloth. Tied her hair back and swept the red cloak across her shoulders. While disguising the remnants of her supper beneath the debris on the forest floor with her feet.

My heartbeat as ragged as my breath began to calm. She pulled up her hood and humming a sweet tune sauntered through on through the forest swinging her basket.

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I shot an email to my producer attached copyright and a clip of the recording.

It paid off! I caught the transformation. No doubts. Amazing footage. Meet me at the helipad four am British meantime …………………

 

A twist on a fairy-tale it is a new challenge for me, I would love to know what you thought. Leave your thoughts and suggestions I will answer quick smart, I love to talk.

media on loan from https://www.pexels.com/@pixabay

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Beneath The Deep

He finished his book, watched the moon glow red on the day. With closed eyes, he inhaled … as if in a dream. A flash, then he falls away.

Into the deep, his arms like tentacles flap as if he’s waving goodbye. There’s panic, an unheard scream, bubbles bursting towards the sky.

Down in the grime the muck and the slime beside the hull of an upturned boat, Protrude oars, like arms reaching out … as if to get ahold of his throat.

An eel comes to look at the boy with a book, who into the water was spilt.Who struggles and fights, his legs disturbing the silt.

Deep he plunges, the light disappears in a mist. Like angelic detritus he floats, intoxicated with heavenly bliss.

The dark clears, a nymph beckons with barely a flick of her wrist. A wisp of a thing lures him deep. Her face he tenderly kissed.

He’s now way below,
Where tides

ebb and flow.

And dreams

Reappear

With

The

Fish.

This re worked piece gets a second chance as I attempt to capture something new.

Did my foray into fantasy work? Answers will be most welcome *waves*

Finding Magic.

Once in a moon
you walk in a room,
With feelings
like you belong.

Once or twice in a life,
When the weather is nice,
And the sun heats up the sky
You will hear a unicorn sigh.

Just now and then
for a smidgen of time
You believe you are
The subject of a song.

If you lay, for a week and a day,
Watch the sun play in the trees.
You’ll see faeries take up a dance,
On the warmth of the incoming breeze.

By holding the thread at end of your bed,
You get to tug it once in your dreams.
The world turns blue especially for you,
And magic exists … So it seems.

pictures by pixabay

 Ooh!Ahh!

Dan has taken on the lovely Linda Hill’s #soCs and the prompt is ooh! ah! press to join in HERE.  Pictures used here were obtained via google, but though I used all due dilligence,I am unable to credit the artist as the owner of the copyright evades me.

stream-of-conciousness

Ooh! Ahh! He cried as I launched myself at the guttersnipe. With a tug of his lobe and a boot firmly at his raggedy behind. It should have had him scurry up the nearest  drainpipe and out of my pockets. But no, he artistically flopped to the dirt lifeless, and stiff. Now his already grubby self was plastered in faecal matter of both human and horse from the gutter.

‘Stand up I tell you,’ his acting skills would have had Shakespear signing him a contract.  I kicked with my beautifully buckled shoe, the sight of the schitt’e smeared item and the stench, had me heave. If he didn’t move speedily, vomit would join the mess on himself. I have no doubt he’d be smelt from a mile away for more than a week.

*retch, heave* this time there was no stopping it. I wafted my lace kerchief in front of my nose, heard rather then felt the slop hit my other shoe then splash my breeches. Just at that precise moment, he rolled over, leapt up, grabbed my fob and showed his heels. I cried ‘Thief! Stop him!’ As i felt for my watch, it had gone, leaving me the stomach churning stench.  I cried for the loss of both face and watch… I sobbed ‘Ohh! noooo!’

a

I hope my interpretation tickled your sensibilities and maybe like me you were a trifle pleased at the comeuppance of such a fop. Do leave your comments I answer with vigour.

The First Stand For Equality

The painting borrowed is a Princess picking lice from a troll. Jane Dougherty’s picture prompt press here to join in or read the responses.

picking lice from a troll

 

.The people of the kingdom thought it a pretty job being a Princess, opening buildings dancing with Princes. But behind the scenes under the castle but above the dungeons… this princess had her work cut out.

This place was where the true ruler lived if an agreement hadn’t been sought… if a truce hadn’t been struck, well it doesn’t bear thinking of. As with most Kingdoms, for a kingdom to become such,  the good has to prevail… hence the truce. In the throne room the king sits with his queen, they feel at ease, the princess is getting her training and  in turn keeps them safe. They have their kingdom so to all intents and purposes… all is good with their world; until.

Princess Romana,  takes off her crown slumps to the floor she crosses her arms. *thinks* why am I the one working so so hard, they sit atop their thrones being fed sweetmeats and dancing while listening to lively music, laughing at the jester’s amusing words. She scratched her head and shuddered… “yuk” she cried, looking at her hand crawling with lice; she ran to her chamber. Romana tugged at her braids and fought with her sash as her ladies, both gloved and aproned, pulled her a paraffin scented scolding bath. “Leave… all of you”  she scowled and clutched a bearskin to cover her pride. Once the water was bearable she eased herself beneath its depths. Tilly the maid, her friend and confidant pushed the huge oak door to see if it was safe to enter. Submerged beneath the stinking water with her nose like a reed poking up for air Romana sobbed. An hour later after being lathered and scrubbed until her skin was rough and raw, her hair combed with the finest of combs, and handfuls of her blonde hair had been gathered from the floor she still whimpered. Tilly stood her on a turning plinth and stroked soothing balm into the skin of Romana, and stroked her forehead until the shuddering stopped and she slept.

By the time the princess had cried silent tears and the bath removed from her room and scrubbed, the court had heard of her misfortune and demanded an audience with the king. On his knees before the king the lord trembled “Oh mighty ruler king of this land, I come on the say so of your court, I beg you to see through the impudence of my words and know they nieve as they are come from the love and caring we have for you and the kingdom.”  The King bellowed “Get on with it! But be aware, I will not be some weak minded pushover and though the executioner has been resting for many a year he is at my call”. The King sat stiffly and his fingers tightened on his sceptre as he frowned at the quivering shape before him. “We, your Royal highness, have learned today of the Princesses distress, we believe that time has come to put a stop to the distasteful tasks she undertakes. She one day will be queen and she too will have to subject her child to the same degrading filthy task. Lord, we beseech you enough is enough this cannot continue. We have knights trained and willing to fight. We have archers son’s of lord’s ready to fight for the princesses hand. All we ask is for our wonderous lord to think on the suggestion. Not waiting for an answer bowing to his knees eyes on his feet he slowly reversed himself from the great throne room.Once calmed the King summoned his wife his mother and his knight commander, over supper they talked, demanded and finally agreed that the Queen as was her duty would speak to the girl.

A pale unhappy Princess went to her mother’s chambers to seek comfort. The queen had agreed this task would be hers and hers alone. “Romana it has come to the attention of the court and indeed the land, of your unhappiness. She raised her hand to still her daughter. The knight commander has arranged for a challenge to be thrown down to the King of Trolls”.Romana gasped…”Yes, he who you groom and feed and care for in the undercroft;  below the banquetting hall. The knight who thwarts the troll will win your hand. Before she could get any further the Princes shouted.  “He will not! I refuse to be treated like a prize in an archery tournament”.The queen gestured her to sit, her high colour disturbed her greatly.” Let me explain” the queen said.  A truce was made when you were conceived that the child born of my loins would live until marriage to serve and groom him the king of Trolls. In return, the kingdom would be free of rampage and disease. Once you married, the fruit of your labour would take your place… so you could rule in the knowledge that you and your kingdom would be safe from The trolls evil”.Feeling pleased with her description the Queen relaxed, until…

“You mean I have been picking lice from his coat, wiping jam from between his toes,  spooning mucus from his nostrils, and picking the flesh from his teeth every day since forever, because the king was stupid enough to agree!” The Princess was incensed she strode up and down screamed and tugged her clothes, the queen thought she had gone insane. “Take me to father now” the queen twittered and trembled she pitter-pattered behind her furious daughter to the door of the throne room. Suddenly Romana slowed, looked thoughtful and taking her mother’s arm and guided her up to the solar. Romana had formed a plan she would not be a prize, only for the man she loved and certainly wouldn’t want to be seen as weak by those who one day would be her subjects. Her mind turned over her idea as she embroidered with the queen, as she stitched she planned and all the time she contrived to show her mother that she had changed her mind and agreed.

Some nights later, while the knights drew straws in the banqueting hall the thunder rumbled, Romana’s plan came to fruition. She collected the great helm with a huge spike a top, a hat she had the blacksmith’s son make in secret; and paid him a handsome sum. She lured the Troll undercover of darkness. They went by torch light up past the merlon to the parapet. The stupidity of the Troll amazed the Princess, he believed she had brought him there to gaze at the bridge where underneath his family lived. She convinced him they would be hoping to catch site of their great masterful Troll to bow before him this night, and so they could see him clearly he was to wear a helmet with a mighty spike fit or so she said for a king. The thunder made him jump, but she patted his hand and led him on. Once at the highest point, he leant out over the parapet at the princesses insistence. Just as he did a crack of lightening struck with humongous force. Romana fled just as the spike conducted the force into the hapless Troll, an almighty bellow shook the battlements people ran to the courtyard to gaze upon the sight of a burning bellowing beast tumbling into the moat. The heat sizzled and left the moat dry with the only remnant being the spiked helm embedded in the earth beneath the castle. Romana became the first woman to have the power of a king, and women’s rights movement was born, and today on this blog it is recorded as ‘The First Stand For Equality’.

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.The Great Helm.

Above is a vague likeness to the one used in my true fairytale the pictures are by way of pixabay. Of course, the actual one had a spike and we, unfortunately, have no recorded evidence as cameras smartphones or other photographic sorcery was at the time deemed evil. Thank you for reading your comments will be waited for in anticipation.

 

 

A Rosy Pairing

press to join in. Sue Vincent’s  picture prompt.

Here is this weeks photo. All.entries to be in by March 22nd.

Stalactites hung like chandeliers from the roof of our cave, the formation split it into two rooms. Since his leaving I had made it welcoming, sweeping the animal waste in a pile,  hanging a lantern from a  root that pierced the ceiling. The rosy welcoming glow was encouraged by the minerals in the rock that cast a sunset; perfect for this night. Animal skins shone silver on the vine that provided cover.

My heart bounced in my chest, as his shadow fell on the ridge. I trembled and perspired at the shape of him. Picking up the mewing bundle I stood at the entrance and thrust it towards his broad chest and said… “Your  gift” With his huge hands he twisted the neck, a crack of splintering bone was heard. A gasp left my throat and I wiped my eyes with trembling fingers. With swift strokes he skinned and gutted it, throwing the debris aside. Taking me roughly in his arms to the inner chamber he reminded me what we were together for.The calf spat and cooked on the fire  as we writhed on its soft skin. Now I was his, I had successfully filled his needs and his belly .
I remember my son asking what it was like when we lived in caves. Though I am not quite old enough for that, I think maybe my story would have fit.I bet you thought that bundle was something else… leave me a comment I am dying to know  😀 😄 😮

MicroFictionchallenge#26

Jane Dougherty challenges writers and poets amongst us with another visual prompt press 🔜 here 🔙 to join in The artist to thank for the loan of this picture is John Bauer.

Lady Godiva, wife of Leofric, Earl of Mercia is a well-known tale across the land, but the lesser known second cousin once thrice removed of that noble Lady was Stanley Kingsbury, after hearing of the famous ride it gave the down at heel blaggard an idea.

Stanley had himself seven daughters and one beautiful dapple grey stallion. Stanley’s daughters were begotten via three sisters none of which he had been betrothed…  early that year they gifted him his daughters and fled to some say sunnier climes in the hope of finding husbands while unchattled by the presence of their loose morals. They together persuaded Stanley that once settled they would call for the girls as ladies maids and staff, that way they would live openly under the wing of their birthmothers but hidden from the smear of wrongdoing.

Meanwhile, Stanley poor as a church mouse decided to replicate Godiva’s ride with all his daughters on the one horse. He paraded the girls in hope of suitors,  through the streets far and wide they rode.  Alas, each time the townsfolk were alerted to the coming of an ungodly scoundrel and ordered to “keep within Doors and from their Windows, on pain of Death” Subsequently the girls were handed over to their grandmother and Stanley could be seen from the four corners of Mercia mounted on Pikes.

  • Any likeness to any living or dead person or persons is entirely coincidental.

Yes! Sir. #soCs

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “yes” Use it as a word, use it in a word, extra points if you start and finish your post with it. Enjoy!


Yes! This is what climbed down in front of my face.  I was In the supermarket gathering items, reading label’s, trying to compute calories, sugar, fat, and really not taking much else on board when this happened. On yesterdays trip it was eyes peeled, trolley nicely filling up when . YES! A flipping “S” word, him up there👆dropped like James bond absailing into th O2.  Hairy legs wriggling from a sign, you know the ones (TEA and sanitary protection Here isle 4).

My arms froze in crucifixion position my eyes crossed, i leapt back and the Agave nectar spun out of my hand and slapped hard into the direction of a passer by. At that precise moment I was doing an impression of a first nation Indian warrior dancing on hot coals… voice an all. Meanwhile the recipient of the Agave had turned as it’s thin plastic container slapped his forehead, split and sent rivulets (all in slow motion) down his face and suede jacket. *Humpf* who wears suede to do the shopping anyway. I remember hearing a frantic tannoy announcement but couldn’t understand what was said, for some random screeching commotion that was going on. That was when I realised it was me. Some person was dragging me towards pet food and finally clamped a hand over my mouth. Yesterday was a not such a good day for shopping.

The ‘S’ word had long since gone scuttled away no doubt looking for Miss Muffet. Two girls were cleaning down the irate man in isle 4 ( he appeared to enjoy that bit) and I was escorted (manhandled by a chauvinistic security guard) out to the door to my car,

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minus my shopping and thoroughly traumatized. “You will go home and think yourself lucky that the gentleman in isle 4, does not… doo you for assault” said the security man close to my ear.”You have serious issues and I suggest mental ones.” How dare he I thought,  but meekly I unwound the window and said “Yes Sir I am going… yes”…
P.s. Just incase you didn’t notice “I hate the “S” word.I do Yes.

What don’t you like? That could get you to loose control? leave me a comment and I will get back as soon as I can.🙂

To Begin  A New End.

​November 9th 2016 charli’s carrott ranch weekly prompt.’The End’ write a story that pivots around an unexpected ending. Press here to join in or to read the others.


  •  Thousands gathered, some rode, others walked to the stones. Drawn some say by forces, maybe magnetic, psychic or coincidence. Either way we all gravitated here and more arrived daily, with scraps of lives some in rags.Escaping the turmoil, that destroyed life as we knew it.
    In a flash, unease spread tempers began to flare. Before long gangs tore people limb from limb they burned and ate the bodies in that once sacred place. Until the ‘Hum’… the light,  In a suck of a vacuum a gigantic slurp all evil was gone. We clung together as one; to begin a new end.

Above The Sky Light.

Photograph by Robert Bultot for use on Friday Fictioneers Prompt only. Press here to visit Rochelle Weisoff-Fields blog  where you can join in or connect with more 100 word fictioneers.  from-roger

 

A twinkle of lights fell over the stairwell as spotlights hit the patterned skylight. People tucked away in plush apartments for the night were oblivious to what was happening above. A hum could be heard it throbbed and pulsed, followed by electronically stylised notes.

One by one the doors opened, children clutched teddies, men smoked cigars and Women holding nightgowns shut while others scratched and craned their necks. In single file they climbed, in silence they followed the sweep of the staircase; until they gathered on the roof terrace, never to be seen again.

 

What do you think happened next? Id love your input, leave it in the comments I promise to reply soon.