Melting Words

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

There was only one reason that made me walk to Synagogue Street on Saturdays.  It wasn’t for the old Irani food joints that lined the street selling enticing kebabs and sweet chai.

It was to catch a glimpse of Esther she walked with her family to the imposing red building.  A hint of smile flitted on her lips as she walked past me.  Next Monday in school she would ask how my weekend went while I’d stammer and talk about cricket.

A lifetime later I reminisce and think of all the words I should have said to melt her heart.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

I couldn't let the weekend go without contributing to the prompt.  Technically it's Monday here but being a public holiday I'll take this opportunity to slip this in.  So I dug in to the memory of a building that I'd seen in my childhood and used that as a story.  For those interested here is a link to an article about the Indian Jewish actresses who once ruled the Hindi cinema  https://www.bh.org.il/blog-items/bollywoods-jewish-superstar-actresses/

 To read the other writers click here.

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Charmed

Copyright Sandra Crook

She was cold, impervious and totally resistant to my charms. The one bridge I could never cross, surprising as the charm had done its trick before.   I mean just look at my track record.  Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, those chicks were putty in my hand. 

But that chick that Rumple spun straw into gold for.  We auditioned together but she told the Grimm brothers that she wanted a King not a Prince.  That nut just wanted her to spin straw into gold! The IRS is on to those schemes now and King owns them big time in back repayments.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

I am going for a two for one deal this week.  To read the other story click here.

To read the other writers this week click here.

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Lest We Forget

Copyright Sandra Crook

I close my eyes and recall the smell of the salty sea breeze mixed with the stench of death.  Even after these years the cries of my fellow soldiers reverberate in my ears.  The beach, littered with wounded men – English, French, Indians, New Zealanders and Australians.

My corps handled the supply Mules that serviced areas where motor transport was impossible. But we were under constant sniper and machine gun fire during the day. My brother was shot and died as I held him. Those heartrending final moments on the beach etched in my mind forever. 

Remember them Lest We Forget.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

On 25th April being Anzac day I decided to write an Anzac themed story.  Around 15000 Indian soldiers fought in Gallipoli but for a long time their contribution remained unknown.  Fortunately this is changing.  In total around 74187 Indian troops died during World War 1.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

I am going for a two for one deal this week.  To read the other story click here.

To read the other writers this week click here.

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Told you snow

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Old Ed didn’t really believe in climate change and fossil fuel alternatives.

“If God didn’t want us to drive big SUVs, he would never have given us gas.”

Burning carbon was never an issue with him.

“No man can eat a charcoal grilled steak and not have tears of joy.  It’s not just the factories that need coal”.

Global warming was all a big conspiracy because carbon dioxide “literally cannot cause global warming.”

“No way the Earth is getting warmer, these temperatures are normal”.

Unfortunately it snowed this summer.

“Man, we could use a big fat dose of global warming!”

 ***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

I don't know where you are at the Climate Change debate but we have to accept that human influence is also a contributory factor to climate change. For this reason alone the changes we make now will impact the future. And then there is Ed and that other guy whose tweet I have linked ;-)

To read the other writers this week click here.

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Crown of Thorns

PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

Locked in your embrace I begin to bleed

Bloodied rags lie scattered across the room

I hide these wounds from the world

My secret ornaments lest they look at me askance.

I smile at the strangers who stare

Shining a harsh light upon my veiled life

Conjuring up explanations for my appearance

Deflecting and assigning blame to myself

To others we shine in the light of the day

I fear sunsets as my quivering heart attests

So when tempests rage in hidden sight

I question myself when will the storm subside

And why do I wear this crown of thorns?

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

This week's prompt did present some prickly problems so I decided to go the poetic route on a subject that is a scourge on the society.

To read the other writers this week click here.

I'd love to read what you think about this post...

Yarn Spinner

PHOTO PROMPT© Sandra Crook

I was at the pub when the bartender told the bloke sitting beside me, “No more for you mate, time to go home.”

I turned but he saw me staring and curling his lips, snarled, “What? You want to guess my name too?”

“Not me buddy,” I replied in a conciliatory tone, “It’s been a tough day.”

I called the bartender, “One last one for me and my buddy here”.

He mellowed down and started to chat.

“I spin straw into gold.  You scoff but those skills made a loser peasant girl into a Queen. The name, sir, is Rumpelstiltskin.”

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

All that yarn meant I had to spin up a tale for this week.  When I wrote that title I did but wonder where the Friday Fictioneer's missing contributor Yarn Spinner is these days.

To read the other writers this week click here.

And on the subject of Queens, here is a great song.

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The Third Eye

She talks of chakras and mandalas

Of invisible wheels of energy flowing

Sacred consciousness

Coursing through the body divine


I stand before her

Silently listening

Washed over by

A torrent of words


Gazing at her doe eyes

As she explains

The seven wheels of energy

That turn in perpetual motion inside


Right from Sahasrara

The thousand-petaled lotus

Radiating pure

awareness


Anahata

The heart chakra

The tiny flame burning within

Unhurt, unstruck, and unbeaten


Ajna

The perceptive third eye

Of intuition and intellect

I steal another look and wonder


If she really knows

That spirituality

Remains a cover

For my desires

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

The thing about writing poetry is that it is a subjective form of creative expression.  It is also the type of writing that I never shared in the past but in the last year or so I find that I am unafraid to share it, so bring on the bouquets or the brickbats :-)

Edit: I added some links to explains some of the Sanskrit words used.  At a minimum the word chakra denotes a 'wheel' or a 'circle' and a 'cycle'.

To read the other writers this week click here.

I'd love to read what you think about this post...

Chopin Away

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

Did you know that before the Pied Piper, Hamelin town had a solution for their rodent menace?  

History would have changed had the council accepted the proposal by Pascal the Piano player.

Yes I mean Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick by the famous Hanover city.   Yes the one where the river Weser, deep and wide, washes its wall on the southern side.

Tone deaf Pascal’s house was the only one free of the vermin.  All he wanted was a permanent spot in the town square to play music.  The musical snobs in the council refused.  The rest you know is history.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

I couldn't get a Handel on this week's prompt but I'll be Bach.

To read the other writers this week click here.

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Catastrophe

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

I was destined to rule this planet.  We had discovered it centuries ago scanning galaxies for a favourable habitat, as our sun, expanded into a red giant. 

Explorers had already made forays to the third planet that circled the yellow dwarf and observed it’s simple residents. 

On landing I transformed my craft into a local carrier.  I sat on it retaining my shape, to monitor their reaction to a superior being like myself.

I am pleased to report that they have fawned over me though my translator is unable to decipher noises emanating from this four legged creature approaching me.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

I don't know if this is the purrfect alien cat story that I could come up with but I am letting it loose.

To read the other writers this week click here.

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Circles

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

In 1849 a young American is jailed for not paying his poll tax as a protest against slavery and the war with Mexico. 

In an essay titled "Civil Disobedience," Henry David Thoreau asked “Can there not be a government in which majorities do not virtually decide right and wrong, but conscience?”

Sixty years later Mohandas Gandhi adopted Thoreau’s thoughts in developing his concept of Satyagraha (non-cooperation).

Years later Martin Luther King Jr., considers the non-cooperation philosophy as “the only morally and practically sound method open to oppressed people in their struggle for freedom”.

And the circle of life carries on.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

More facts than fiction in this post today. When I saw the name I did find information about the town of Thoreau. It did present some ideas especially considering that the Navajo Nation has a strong history and culture culture around the town, But in the end I went with Henry David Thoreau and how his essay written nearly 170 years ago influenced the two giants of the twentieth century.

To read the other writers this week click here.

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Fake Roses

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Fake roses make me think

Of our life together

Where I expected to inhale

The fragrance of a life entwined

Of warm companionship and bliss

What I got instead

Was a bunch of plastic flowers

Colours gaudy

A gilt edge border

That was meant to entice

But it never did

Lacking not just the aroma

But a soul

Laugh you may

At that thought

Of a spirited flower

So close your eyes

And in your mind

Transport away

To a verdant vale

Where flowers bloom

Inhale their delicate scent

Their short lived life

Leaves behind a fragrance

That lives forever.

***

100 words.

Welcome to another week of Friday Fictioneer.   Missed last week due to extra work commitments and with this being a busier week, I thought I'd get one in before the week gets hectic.  It is a day of sad  memories for us, can't believe five years have passed since this  entry In Our Hearts Forever   

To read the other blooming writers this week, click here. 

I'd love to read what you think about this post...

Perfect Match

PHOTO PROMPT © Anshu Bhojnagarwala

My uncle was a diehard bachelor who consistently ignored match making attempts.  Growing up I recall my mother and her sisters being convinced that this would be the year their brother would marry. 

Ultimately the sisters gave up and we learned about this one girl who he loved but did not approach.  Ultimately she got married and moved away.  

Then in his sixties my uncle discovered social media, connections were made with old contacts, including the newly widowed flame.  Within a month his Facebook status was changed to ‘In a relationship’.

Who knew such flames of passion burned deep inside?

***

100 words.

If it's Wednesday then it must be the start of another episode of Friday Fictioneer.   This time it seems to be a flame game.  I too had an entry four years ago The Liberating Fire which was a bit darker then this light-hearted submission.  I hope you like it, all I can say is Burn appetit. 

To read the other blazing writers this week, click here. 

I'd love to read what you think about this post...