There Is Power In A Name.

In 1000 words (by the end of each month) using the monthly prompt word. Write a short story, no more than 1000 words. To join in, read the entries and guidelines PRESS HERE. November’s random word is Educate.

Aland worked in artificial intelligence, Luna, two days a week for an Observatory; together they taught the children. They live in a self-sufficient home in the Fens. London was fifteen, Quacey twelve, Diana eleven, Amaris ten, Jaci seven, Candara five, Auberon and Neoma are the two-year-old twins.

eco home

London’s raindrop alarm splashed his hair, with a clenched fist to hit the stop button. Last week he tried ignoring it, four drips in and a deluge of freezing water soaked him. He was not best pleased with hanging out bedclothes and remaking the bed; all before school. The schoolroom was down the back of the plot; both Aland and Luna planned the lessons, they had a nursery nurse Martha to help educate Jaci, Candra and the twins.

“Who calls their kid’s such stupid names?” Shouted London, as his fist pummelled the jute wrapped bale in the barn. “Even our bales suck.” He punched hard into the rough cloth. ” Clean this dig that,” punch swipe, his hands were hot and speckled with droplets of blood, fibres clung to the wet grazes. London pulled his forearm across his face and sniffed hard. His brows creased and mouth screwed as he looked out of the hayloft door. From his position he could see Luna, teaching Quacey Diana and Amaris about pond ecosystems; besides the duck pond. Fishing chairs and nets lay with buckets, paper and pencils; cluttering a trestle table. Dad was doing something disgusting in the reedbed across the far side. He should be revising for his exam at the college next week, instead, here he stood, sulkily watching, keeping out-of-the-way. “I won’t stand a chance, the kids who have normal names and normal lives will hate me.” Regardless of the pain, he returned to finish, his punches clean, swift and hard.

Jaci and Candra were painting a frieze with stamps made from potatoes. Martha looked in on what should have been London revising. Her call to Aland was answered swiftly, “Hi, I am sorry to have to tell you; he’s gone again.” She heard a ragged sigh, his voice flat. “Thanks, Martha, any clue? Anything at all?” She could feel the sadness in his tone, “sorry nothing.” Struggling out of his waders he swore as his sock sank in the grey sludge beside the reedbed. Throwing the waders in the old golf cart, he slumped into the driving seat and turned the key. He watched the children with Luna and smiled to himself. A Kyte caught his eye gliding, like a dart; it plummeted. That’s when he saw movement in the hayloft, relief followed by anger. Going into the barn he coughed and stamped, Aland didn’t want to surprise the boy. Soon they were eyeball to eyeball. Aland winced at the sharp hay stabbing his bare legs. “Okay, I am listening.” His lips were pursed his brow furrowed. London shook his head slowly. Aland caught sight of some blood on the boy’s sleeve, picked his arm up to look. “Better go home get that cleaned before your mother has a fit.” London jerked his hand free. He reached the tackle and hook used for lifting and lowering bales; defiantly he stared at his Dad as he abseiled from the loft.

The house was quiet with the children asleep. The only sound was the bats … and the beat of a base carried on the night’s breeze. Lights shone from the schoolroom where London revised to the background of heavy metal; minus the headphones. “That young man is pushing his luck,” Luna had to hold back from banging the mugs into the cupboard, ” Really Aland, we can’t let him get his head; we will lose him.” She dropped her face to her husband’s shoulder. Squeezing her tight his lips pressed to her ear. “We will cope, we’ll find a way to get through to him.” She turned to him, “It needs sorting before his exams … or he will fail.”

moon-animation33

London sat in the hayloft watching the Moon; tonight it was almost full. Tomorrow a red Moon would be seen from this vantage point, but the thought of sharing it with his siblings and parents made him mad. He scuffed his boot angrily filling the air with dust. London’s cough disguised the sound of weary boots treading the stairs. For the second time today, Aland faced his angry lad. “You, home, now!” London moved towards the door as his dad grabbed him, “Do not push me, use the stairs.” His shoulders slumped, eyes focused on the floor; his boots thumped the steps purposefully. The boy, closely followed by his Father; left the loft.

Luna and the children were excited, today they prepared food for a moonlit picnic. Dad set up two telescopes, one at the lake the other in the loft. He hoped that Mum’s calculations were correct and the sky clear for the show. Jaci Candra and the twins covered spheres with crumpled tissue with the help of Martha. Quacey. Diana and Amaris wrote stories and poems depicting the moon’s phases. Their fun made London angrier. With wet red cheeks, London came face to face with his father, neither of them expected the other. “You always follow me” London roared, his nose only an inch from Aland’s face. “Sneaking up, spying on every little thing.” His nostrils flared, he snatched and flinched and took off at speed. Alund followed. Twigs cracked, sweat seeped into his eyes but he knew this was crunch time; the boy mustn’t win. Aland’s chest began to tighten his legs trembled, but on he tore. At last, London fell to his knees, breath spent, shoulders twitched and drips of salty tears fell from the end of his nose. Aland flopped on his backside; breathing heavily next to him. His head back; eyes screwed and mouth gaped. Eventually, they talked.

Luna watched as they walked, arms draped across shoulders; she smiled. London sat with his siblings around him. Aland tugged Luna away, hand in hand they walked with heads almost touching. London told the children how each one had been given a name specially chosen for its astrological connections. He told them how lucky they were to live there, together they watched the spectacle before them.

the names as verified in the link are:

Aland = Bright as the Sun (English/Celtic origin)

Luna = Moon

London = Fortress of the moon

Quacey = Moonlight (Scottish 0rigin)

Diane = Goddess of the moon.

Neomea = Full moon

Oberon = Large moon

Ameris = Moonchild ( Irish origin)

Candara = Glowing like the moon

jaci = Moon (American tribal origins)

The above list was compiled from various sources but most are verified in the link below.

Name Link

Does someone in your family have an unusual or meaningful name? leave me a comment I would love to talk?

Advertisements

Around The Garden.

I set the garden up first thing before the crow dropped feathers and the frogs sang. Tables, chairs, chests of drawers. Grandad’s binoculars and his upright teatime chair, the one with a wooden hinged cup tray at the arm. I piled and propped things to replicate rooms; polished and loved them one last time. I could almost hear them; Popa and Mama … discussing how this was; as needs must. By the time Chorley arrived with the mail, the lawn was an outdoor house. Trestle’s replicated the kitchen, displaying the silver with the willow- patterned service piled high. Sun crept between the Ash and sparkled the Copper kettles and pans. Grandma’s embroidery samplers, linens and her handmade lace filled the aged trousseau box, beside the Chaise longue … under the Apple tree. A copper slipper-bath nestled next to the herb garden. Laundered towels I draped on the oak airer; besides the pond.

By half-past three all was sold … except for the large mirror Mama used in her dressing room when I was three. It reflected more than Stupley’s walled garden. Memories of ball gowns, pirouettes and tiara’s, stopped me from accepting a bid. Satisfied, I took a last look around.

My stream of consciousness began with a word containing round and ended with it also as the prompt suggested. Thanks again Linda Hill for the opportunity. Press “HERE” to join the fun or read some wonderful posts.

Let me know what you think! I am thick skinned and love to chat. 😉

Blood-red Moon.

moon-animation33

Autumn arrives following a blood-red moon,
Vicars pray and People cry “The end is coming soon.”
Fears of men from distant lands make us think.
Old maids spend the night hidden under the kitchen sink.

Morning breaks and life goes on the way it did before,
With many men casting stones and crying out for war.
Peace keepers calming them as the hungry cry for food,
The greedy believe they’re cheats so call them “bloody rude.”

Berries plump amongst the thorns are fat with juice,
Leaves will fall and crackle, Under the feet of the farmyard goose.
The last apples ripen as harvesting is done,
Filberts stolen by squirrels while playing in the sun.

Pumpkins, Halloween, gingerbread and spice,
Punch that smells of cinnamon spiked with rum to make it nice.
Sweet caramel apples served on wooden sticks,
Children give sticky kisses from sugar covered lips.

As Autumn creeps through this land
No doubt the moon gave a helping hand.
An old wives tale or a prophesy
Thwarted by the trajectory.

A reworked poem especially for my introduction to the blog battle press HERE to join in or read some great writing. Both animations are on loan from Kathryn Dydecka http://bestanimations.com/

Also linked to Esme’s senior Salon, A platform to share, follow and read other blogs. Press the “Now” to read or join in Thank you Esme.

I hope you enjoyed this, did you see the last Harvest moon? Do you believe in its magic? let me know in the comments. I love to talk.

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*.

Mummy’s Birthday.

# FridayFictioneers a picture prompt and 100 words let’s go. press here to read the others.

Bet and Joe had been working on Mummy’s gift for weeks. Daddy leant them tools and Mr Giles from the allotment drew the plan. Today would be the big reveal, both of them were excited at the prospect.

Mummy loved Autumn which was good being as her birthay fell on the third of October. She loved her garden but spent this summer in hospital so her birthday needed to be perfect.

Dressed in their best clothes with a picnic spread in the garden, the children called on Mr Giles to help them bring it. “Surprise Mummy it’s an insect home.”

Below is a link to make your own insect home. Like Bet and Joe you too could build a surprise.

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&url=https://www.edenproject.com/learn/for-everyone/how-to-build-an-insect-home&ved=2ahUKEwjGlbLm28zcAhUHYlAKHcy2B4wQFjAUegQIBxAB&usg=AOvVaw2H1wRvMc3nNTZ–3GJIujf

Let me know if you built or made a gift for someone when you were a child and was it a success?

Cheers.

Here Linda Hills stream of concious Saturday prompt. Press to join in or read

We heard the cheers through the trees,

The music carried on an evenings breeze.

Painted faces and flowered hair,

Dogs and children nap in wheeled chairs.

We raised our glasses nodded our heads.

Unspoken memories we shared in bed.

An earthy voice was the last we heard,

Interupted by the late night trill of a lowley bird.

A nightingale threw back its head

We listened lying in the motorhome bed.

The festival stopped with resounding cheers

But the nightingale stayed with us for many years.

Photograph taken by me at #RedRoosterFestival JUNE 2018 Held at Euston Hall Suffolk.

A VERY QUICK #SoCS

Have you been to a gig or festival recently? Do let me know in the comments😇