Wednesday's Words on a Friday

 

The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.

The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.

If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.

This month the words/prompts are supplied by ME and can be found right here

Next months prompts will be from Lissa at Memories of Rain? (not sure if I remember the url correctly)

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. boxy 

2. honey 

3. clock 

4. yearn 

5. erupted 

6. drift 

and/or: 

1. goblin 

2. differences 

3. relax 

4. shimmer 

5. porch 

6. rainwater 

Here is my story: 

I had long yearned for a home of my own, a separate dwelling where the noises of neighbours couldn't be easily heard, especially when their differences of opinion erupted loudly into the night. Well, now I had one. A home of my own. With a fenced yard and my own clothesline! Not a rusty, spiderwebbed contraption shared by others. Others who hung their clothes and sheets etc, then promptly forgot about them for days or weeks at a time. Heaven only knows what they were wearing in the meantime!

I had visited several homes, listed as "open for inspection", and some were nice, some were terrible, one in particular was quite boxy. The construction was of a style that looked like giant Lego blocks had been stacked up and the furniture inside was boxy too, all flat sides and right angles, sharp corners at every turn. Even the clock was square. I left that one in a hurry. 

My new home had a small front porch, a larger back porch and even a rainwater barrel so I could dip out the water for my pot plants. I quickly learned to enjoy sitting out there watching the shimmer of wings as dragonflies hovered above the water and occasionally skimmed across it. It was very relaxing and I would drift off to sleep, my book falling to the floor. During one such afternoon, I was shocked into wakefulness by a small stocky figure, stamping his foot and shaking his finger at me, proclaiming me an intruder on his turf! My eyes nearly popped out of my head! He was a Goblin, a real, live Goblin! And he was yelling at me....

When he began to calm down, I asked him what was the matter? I learned that I had placed my pot plants in such a way as to block the paths taken by him and his tribe daily as they gathered honey from the beehive in the old stump by the back fence. I asked him to show me which pots I should move and where I should put them. We came to a satisfactory arrangement quite quickly, then I asked if I might please meet the rest of the tribe. He shook his head. No. Goblins are usually unseen by humans, he told me, carrying out their work quietly so as not to disturb and he would be most appreciative if I continued this tradition. If all remained well, he might occasionally leave me a small pot of fresh honey for my breakfasts. 

I thanked him and went inside, as it was growing cool with the setting of the sun, wondering for several days if I had actually just dreamed the whole thing. Then one morning I stepped out onto the back porch and found a tiny pot of honey.