We look upon a mournful scene,
is it mist or just the sheen
of sadness in the eyes downcast.
With folded arms and child at breast
she realises that no more
on lapping wave her paramour,
will reappear on rising tide
but now departs for the last time,
her clifftop vigil will soon end as
arms outstretched she will descend.
No-one will mourn, nothing to keep
her from making this fateful leap.
Sensing the climate
of the office being cool,
we all donned our frowns
the sexual energy
was gone, never to return
Great men ever try
to thwart their peer’s inertia
and alter the world
long experience has shown
nature will often help them
their eyes open wide
in recognition of truth
lives changed forever
I don’t know if I was being foolish, not sure if I was just being blind but something went seriously wrong today and I thought you may be a little interested. It may give you a laugh anyway, sadly it did me. Luckily there are no lasting consequences unless you can class the probable loss of a touring caravan as lasting. Everything went so well with the hitching-up process, the lights worked without a bang on the cluster and I remembered to raise the jockey wheel and attach the safety wire. The extension mirrors needed little adjustment and we were off for just the second sojourn this year. Within 800 yards of the storage site I had the galling experience of watching a blue and white leviathan which instead of sitting directly behind my rear-view mirror was now slowly passing on my starboard side as it decided to jump off the tow hitch. Luckily there was no approaching vehicle as we were approaching a blind bend. With a loud grinding noise the van mounted the far bank. Instead of stopping it ploughed into the hedge and buried it’s A-frame into the base of an ivy-clad blackthorn tree. Luckily it stayed upright on two wheels. Thanky-ou to the passing motorists who offered help. With the aid of two gentlemen we were able to drag the van out of the hedge although it required the use of a crowbar and a strop attached to my towbar, luckily provided by one of the assisting drivers. After another failure of the tow hitch I managed to tow the van back to it’s home after a trip that although lasting over two hours managed to cover a maximum of one mile. It only leaves me to find estimates for repair of the damage but I somehow think the death knell has sounded. We shall see. Sadly due to panic I am unable to provide photos of the unfortunate incident but if I show the resulting damage you will probably get the idea.
And so instead of sitting out in the solitude of the great outdoors I am resigned to sitting in my temporary office bemoaning the loss of a few days writing productivity. Perhaps some good may come of this then.
The hero never
seeks to condemn the coward
equals before God
in the cool dark earth
hero and coward await
the final journey
Earduk looked into the mist. It was fourteen sunrises since his father Shardan had ceased his part in the tribe.
It was time for the final ritual. This was Earduk’s personal ceremony.
Hanging from his shoulder the jute bag felt heavy as it bounced on his right thigh with each step.
He stopped in a kind of reverie, wondering how far his father was on his journey. Today would be a great help to him, Earduk was sure.
He tapped the bag at his side and with a smile remembered how hard it had been to prepare the heavy sword within. He and two of his brother’s had strained for many fire-burnings to bend the blade exactly as required. It’s spirit was now released and it was ready to work for it’s owner.
His father would be waiting to feel it in his hand once more. Only then could he continue his journey with his wife Lucine, Earduk’s beloved mother.
The mist was starting to clear. He could hear the rush of wings as the flock of geese that resided on the lake in safety overnight started to lift off from the lake to fly over to the grassy plain to start the day’s feeding.
He could see the causeway ahead and he slowly reached into his bag. Reverently withdrawing the blade he turned it over and over in his hands. The blade flashing in the rising sun casting shafts of light onto the dark waters lapping gently at the reed-covered banks.
Taking three paces onto the causeway he raised the u-shaped blade above his head and with a loud cry cast the offering far into the pool.
The splash caused a stir among the remaining geese and hastened them in their decision to take off. The ripples dislowly diminished and with the ritual complete Earduk turned back to the shore.
Earduk would be able to tell the elders that Shardan could now be placed in the niche near to the door of the family roundhouse. Once more armed Shardan would continue to protect his family as before.
he was able to compose
a brief but meaningful ode
to treasure her memory
History shows that
the actions of a rebel
can bring massive change
The Clevedon Community Bookshop is offering a flash fiction workshop from 7-9pm on Thursday 4 October 2018 delivered by Gail Aldwin.
Everyday lives are packed with tasks and activities that leave little time for reading or writing at length. Flash fiction has the ability to fit into the breaks and provides satisfying stories with all the elements of a longer piece of fiction. This workshop will explore opportunities to incorporate flash fiction into your writing and welcomes those who are already writing flash fiction and those who would like to start. Through activities and prompts you will be able to develop new pieces of flash fiction and understand more about the process of writing in this a short form.
Gail Aldwin is an award-winning writer of short fiction and poetry. Paisley Shirt(Chapeltown Books, 2018) was longlisted in the best short story category of the Saboteur Awards 2018. She is a visiting tutor on the Creative Writing BA at Arts University Bournemouth and Chair of the Dorset Writers’ Network.
Booking is through the Clevedon Community Bookshop. Email: firstname.lastname@example.org or telephone 01272 218318