On Wednesdays, assorted people have been taking monthly turns at putting up a selection of words which is called “Words for Wednesday”.
We have taken over this meme from Delores, who had been having computer problems.
This month the meme continues right here, with words supplied by me!
Essentially the aim is to encourage us to write.
Each week we are given a choice of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or images. What we do with those prompts is up to us: a short story, prose, a song, a poem, or treating them with ignore...
Some of us put our creation in comments on the post, and others post on their own blog. We would really like it if as many people as possible joined in with this fun meme.
If you are posting on your own blog - let us know so that we can come along and read your masterpiece.
I’m hopeless at poetry so I always do a story.
It’s a fun challenge…why not join in?
This week's words are:
and/or this phrase: "there is a Prince Charming in all good fairy stories"
Here is my story, another chapter in the continuing saga which is as yet untitled:
Stephen Jenkins timidly advanced to the front desk at the Police Station. He seemed jittery and looked like he hadn't been sleeping very well.
Constable Sandy was on duty there and immediately brought Stephen into the back room and offered him coffee and cake. Jenny had made her famous ginger cake and half of it was in the break room.
Stephen declined and started muttering about nightmares, complex business issues, the mystery of odd goings on in the accounts department. "It was the hottest night we'd ever had," he said, "and I went in to offer George a beer after work, but there was an Asian man in the office and, and, and, oh! I can't remember anymore. I know there is something I have to say, but every time it bobs up there are flashes of lightning and fizzy feelings in my brain. I don't like this!" Stephen yelled the last few words and ran out of the Police Station.
Sandy stared after him a moment, thinking to himself that at least Stephen hadn't relapsed into Klingon, then picked up the phone to call Jenny.
"Jenny, it's me love. Stephen has just been in here, ranting a bit about nightmares and something to do with a mystery at the office. I think maybe he's beginning to reconnect with buried memories. It's a good thing, I'm sure, but he looks awful, could you maybe talk to him later today?"
"Yes, of course," Jenny said. "Were there any key words you've never heard him say before? Something I can slip into conversation that might trigger a memory?"
Sandy said, "he mentioned the hottest night again, but also an Asian man, we haven't heard of anyone else being there that night before now."
"Thanks," said Jenny. "I'll think up a story and go to the boat shed this afternoon."
On the other side of town, Tom Feathers stealthily made his way to the granite reef a mile beyond the riverbank and fairly close to Rick Stanton's home. He found the hollow in the granite where he and Old Billy used to hide many years ago as children. He dug into the softer dirt inside the hollow and unearthed a rusty old cake tin containing several leather wrapped packages and a pair of old kadaitcha shoes. These shoes would help him get to and from Rick's place without leaving tracks. None that Rick would see anyway.
Sandy knew what to look for, but Tom could count on him to 'not see' and his silence would be instrumental in the unhinging of Rick's sanity. They wouldn't drive him completely over the edge, but Rick would definitely pay for his abusive treatment of the girl he'd once professed to love.
Tom and Billy had discussed this quite a bit over tea and plum duff, concluding, as Pearl had months ago, that the appearance of the children had something to do with it. Mary herself didn't look at all aboriginal, although she was, but the children did show their heritage in their features and colouring. Both had dark hair and dark chocolate eyes. Little Jackie, who wasn't dark skinned, did resemble Old Pearl quite a bit. The snide remarks from Rick's mother had begun the moment she set eyes on Tess one day after her birth. Leoni Stanton thought if she sowed enough seeds of discontent, Rick would leave Mary and they could move far away from Rivertown. But Rick stayed and two years later Jackie was born.
Leoni upped her game and really dug in some claws. She was getting a little desperate. Leoni had a secret of her own that she never wanted revealed.
Rick's answer to the increased onslaught had been to get more interactive with the crowd at the local gambling house. Not quite a casino, but drinking and card games were available on a daily basis from 10am until the small hours of the morning. And Rick was there most nights, winning at first, because that's how they suck you in, but in the past few months, losing miserably and becoming very short-tempered with it. In his rare sober moments, he'd review his situation and more often than not, feel like a piece of driftwood floating aimlessly in an endless ocean. A continental shift seemed like a fine idea; maybe Leoni was right. He should leave Mary, take his mum and move overseas.
Back at the granite reef, Tom examined the special markings on each leather wrapped parcel. He found the one he was looking for and buried it deep within the soil. That one would never see the light of day. It contained several strips of cloth each salvaged from a camp where sickness had killed more than half the tribe. Smallpox, measles, chickenpox and one with an influenza virus. Probably too old to make anyone sick, but not worth taking any chances. Once all this kerfuffle died down, Tom would return and burn that one. For now, he made plans to replace all Rick's clean bathroom towels with grubby cloths used to wipe down sweaty horses, as well as tying all the shoelaces together. To the wrong shoes. Left shoes to left shoes, right shoes to right shoes.