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

This week's words/prompts are: 

1. off the beaten track 

2. cheeky old fella's goin' fishin' 

3. bouquet 

4. marketing 

5. cape 

6. crease

Also including Charlotte's colour of the month: Olive Green. 

Here is my story:

A slight frown made a crease in Chuck’s forehead as he pulled the van to a stop. He looked at the barely visible trail in the undergrowth ahead, then at Dave. “We seem to have gotten off the beaten track mate,” he said, “you sure you know how to read a map?” “I’ve been reading your maps for years,” declared Dave, “how about I hand it over to Jerry, would you prefer that?” “No good mate, he’s sleepin’ “ said Chuck. “Hand it over and show me where you think we are.”

Dave handed him the map and pointed to a spot near the blue line of a river, then got out to stretch his legs. His olive green tracksuit blended so well with the surrounding foliage, Chuck almost couldn’t see him once he’d stepped far enough away. “Put ya hat on!” he shouted and Dave immediately put his bright red hat over his mud brown hair. Gerry snorted in his sleep and let go a rolling fart as he got more comfortable under his cape. Chuck was out of the van so quick, he almost fell over his own feet.  Gerry’s farts were legendary and no one needed to breathe that particular “bouquet.”

He pulled his bandanna over his nose and quickly wound down all the windows and left the doors open too. Looking around, he called to Dave, “here’s probably as good a place as anywhere to stop for a rest. I’ll find the compass and that book of trails, maybe we can work out where we are.”  Dave came back saying, “there’s a dry river bed through those trees and downhill a bit, probably the one on the map. How long is it since anyone came this way? All this second growth under the trees might be newish and this little trail might be the right one.”

“You’ve never steered me wrong all these years,” said Chuck. “Stay away from the van until the air clears in there and show me the river bed.” He carried the compass as they walked and soon he was matching North and various landmarks on the old map. “You’re right again Davey boy,” he said, “this is it and that river is as dry as a bone. We won’t get any fishin’ done there.” They walked back towards the van and looked at the newly scratched sides, where the words “Cheeky Old Men Goin’ Fishin’” were still visible through the dust.

“I think we might need to buy a newer map,” said Dave. His sharp eyes spotted something several miles off to the west. “ I see a few buildings over that way, but no way to get to them, we’ll just have to keep followin’ the trail until it widens or we find a place to turn around and get back onto the main road.” “That might be our best option,” said Chuck. “Find a town, get a bit of marketing done for our dinners and see if we can get a newer map. But let’s not buy any more of those cans of chili.”