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 Hilary Melton-Butcher and can be found here

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. wellington boot 

2. art 

3. murmuration 

4. sedge 

5. thresh 

6. fissure 

and/or: 

1. heath 

2. race 

3. cottage 

4. mosses 

5. windbreak 

6. ajax

Here is my story:

(I have only used half the words and will work on the rest, maybe posting another chapter in a day or three)

While walking home form the market and peeking now and then into my art stall bag of lovely new paints, Terry told me where he had found Khoral Kai. “With a group of children as usual, he’s a bit like the Pied Piper, but without luring the children away. They love his stories and don’t realise he is teaching as he tells.”

“What was he teaching this time?” I asked. Terry said, “he made up a story about a clown who was lost and couldn’t find his circus. He was rambling around the country in oversized wellington boots and knowing he was near the marsh because he was wading through sedge grass, so he turned around to head back towards the heath, then one little girl said heath was a plant in her mother’s garden and all the kids nodded and agreed. Then Khoral told them that heath is also a name for low-lying moorland areas, from sea level and up to higher ground which is when it becomes the moor.”

“He does know an awful lot about everything, doesn’t he?” I said. “Molly, you know he is a stranded alien, don’t you?” “Yes, I do, why?” “Well,” Terry continued, “maybe his race of people live a very long time and spend a good deal of that time learning what they can about other planets, particularly ones like ours with humans and so much diversity.” “That makes sense,” I said. “I wonder if he is also willing to tell us about his home and people?” “That would be worth listening to for sure,” said Terry.

We caught up with a couple of people who weren’t familiar, and looking around as if lost. “Can we help you?” we asked. “We are looking for the Bed and Breakfast Cottage,” said one who introduced himself as Aiden Trelawney. “The girl at the bakery stall was quite rude, we thought, just pointing this way without answering,” said the woman crossly. “That is Gail,” said Terry and she is mute, unable to talk, but she did point you in the right direction.” “We own the Bed and Breakfast,” I said, “do you have reservations or were you just hoping for a one night stay on the spur of the moment?” “Just walk along with us,” said Terry, “it’s at the high point of a slope looking over the river, about a half an hour away.”

“Half an hour more of walking!” exclaimed the woman. “That’s too far, should we hire a car instead?” “Now Cynthia, calm down a bit,” said Aiden. “If it was too close to the village it wouldn’t be a proper ‘Getaway’ would it?” Cynthia grumped to herself as she plodded along, clearly unused to walking any kind of distance at all, if her fancy city shoes were anything to go by.

(to be continued)