Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wednesday, 21 October 2015

Words for Wednesday

The lovely Delores at Under the Porch Light has been running this meme for a considerable period of time, week after week.   Computer issues led her to bow out for a while and I took over.  When Delores' absence looked like being more permanent I begged and cajoled for other volunteers to share providing the prompts, and Words for Wednesday became a moveable feast.

In July River from Drifting through Life hosted, Jacqueline at Randomosity in August. During September the challenge has been posted by Susan at the Most - - of Every Moment, and this months prompts were created by Margaret Adamson and her friend Sue, but published here.

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 an image.   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.  I would really like it if as many people as possible joined into this fun meme.  If you are posting on your own blog - let me know so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.


This week Margaret and Sue have given us photographs for inspiration.  There are two photographs which can be combined to make one story, or used separately.

I am really looking forward to seeing where these take us.



 

144 comments:

  1. I can do the first one - She looked back and her decision struck full force. He was no longer in view...

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    1. Oh goodness where did he go? Will he ever return again?

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    2. Alex J Cavanaugh: Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Karen is right. Your snippet raises questions. Lots of questions.

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  2. I would like to try, but how long do I have to complete it?
    Mary

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    1. mxtodis123 ~ Mary: It would be wonderful if you could join us. There are no time limits - but a new set of prompts will go up next week.

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    1. Author R. Mac Wheeler: It is an incredible photo isn't it?

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  4. Oh yes, we look into that rear view mirror! Too much? Not enough? And so we drive on. . . . . . Glad you are on the road with me!







    ALOHA
    ComfortSpiral

    (\__/)
    (='.'=)
    (")_(")

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    1. Cloudia: Always happy to travel with you.

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  5. This certainly is an interesting exercise....here is my tale for today.....

    "Maisie’s gnarled hands trembled as she studied the photo. The golden silk shorts, matching sash and the suede bolero were long gone, lost along with the carefree days of her youth.

    She remembered that night standing on the stage. It had been the first time she’d appeared in front of a live audience; an audience other than her family. Many times, she’d performed her routine at home in their lounge room, but the night depicted in the photograph had been her debut into the wonderful, exciting world of vaudeville.

    Katie, her youngest great-grandchild, one day when going through her trunk filled with memorabilia, as was her wont to do, had found the tassled tambourine. The tambourine now held pride of place in Katie’s bedroom. She treasured it as much as she did her great-grandmother’s stories of her exciting past.

    Maisie sighed. Her eyes grew misty, but a smiled teased at the corner of her mouth as memories of those wonderful years filled her mind. The years had flashed by far too quickly, gone like visions in a rear view mirror of a speeding car."

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    1. Yes, our memories are such a blessing and link to our pasts, forever more. You offer us such a lovely reminder.

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    2. A wonderful story about the memories of an old woman in her hayday.

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    3. Lee: This is beautiful. Memories are such powerful things.

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    4. This is wonderful, may I write chapter two?

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    5. You can write Chapters two and three if you like, River :)

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  6. Good gracious, that incredible rear view catch got me thinking, and I couldn't hold back the thought process and the word flew in blizzard fury! I'm only using the first image this time, and I'm probably the first to post! Here's where my post can be read.
    http://twincitiesblather.blogspot.com/2015/10/thoughts-on-tuesday-afternoon.html

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    1. Karen S.: I have visited, and marvelled. Thank you.

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    2. Thank you! I'm trying to catch up on all the others too!

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  7. The first thing that popped into my head when I saw the first photo was 'looking at life in my rear view mirror.' But then that's a side mirror so I guess I'd be looking at life sideways.

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    1. Mason Canyon: It is a powerful image isn't it? It has already taken us on some very different journeys.

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    1. Blogoratti: They are aren't they? Are you going to join us this week?

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  9. OK Here goes with a story about the first photograph.

    My Mum is a bird watcher and one day when we were going along this small road, I asked her to stop the car, but said she said she wanted to get to the lake to see the waders and we would stop then.

    What my Mum didn’t know was that I had discovered I had powers to make myself smaller and fly. It wasn’t difficult to look in the mirror, and disappear through it without her ever knowing. In a flash I rounded the corner to the lovely thatched cottage I had seen a few seconds ago when I had asked my Mum to stop the car. Its doorway was covered with pink Roses and smoke was rising from the chimney stack. A little table was outside the gate and on it were toffee apples for sale. I had mentioned to Mum I would like one, but she said it would make an awful mess of the car.

    The old lady was tending her flower beds full of Clarkia, different coloured Poppies, beautiful Cornflowers and Antirrhinum. She looked up as I appeared at the gate. Her warm smile was welcoming and she invited me into the garden telling me to take one of the toffee apples.

    She said she had just taken fresh baked bread from the oven and was about to have some with her homemade butter and raspberry jam in her summer house and would I like to join her.

    I jumped at the chance as Mummy was always too busy to make anything from scratch and as a result everything was shop bought. The summer house was open fronted and only had a small bench to sit on with a tiny table but enough room for the home made lemonade and bread butter and jam. There were beautiful fragrant sweet peas climbing up each side of the summer house. Hens walked freely around her long back garden. She gave me seed to scatter around for them while we tucked into the goodies. It was funny, but I sensed this dear old woman knew I was going to visit her that day and also she seemed to know about the powers I had even though neither of us spoke about them. I felt so comfortable in her company but realised that Mum would eventually notice that I was not in the back of the car so reluctantly, I thanked her and left.

    I walked round the corner just out of sight of her cottage and used my powers to fly back, dive into the mirror just in time for Mum to point out the beautiful Black Swans with their 4 cygnets on the lake. She had never missed me but I knew for sure I would be able to visit the old lady again someday.

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    1. A lovely moment of whimsy. :)

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    2. Margaret Adamson: I so hope she did visit. Often.

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    3. The flower-entwined cottage and summer house has me dreaming now of long lazy spring days in the country.

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    4. Oh ye, the gift of flying! What a marvelous artful story. Thank you.

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  10. Lovely the two pictures, I prefer the images, they are better for me.

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    1. I hope Bob you will try writing a little story about at least one of the photographs.

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    2. Bob Bushell: They are incredible images - but where did they take your mind...?

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    3. Margaret, I am unable to write for long.

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  11. Green. lush, beautiful. Deserted.
    Perfect.
    The rain has softened the ground for me. Digging his grave will be easy. And as time goes by he will feed the trees and add to the beauty of this spot. At last he is good for something.

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    1. Oh Dear!! I am laughing at this take on the photograph. I am glad you live on the other sdie of thee world!! Seriously a very diffferent take on anything I expected Sue.

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    2. Margaret Adamson: Sometimes my dark side won't be denied.

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    3. When is it that the Skinny One is returning, EC? lol

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    4. If he reads this story of Sue's, he might not return!!!

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    5. Is he away, of is that just my story?

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    6. Well, now you've got us all wondering just who it is that sends you photographs from Russia and other places.

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    7. Now we have another story of as secret affair after you dug the grave for the last one!!! Never knew this photo would have ethis effect!!!

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    8. River Fairchild: Why am I not surprised?

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    9. There's an interesting side to you, EC, which shows in this writing. Never underestimate the female mind. . .

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    10. D.G Hudson: I have no idea where this snippet came from, but came it did.

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    11. I'm going to go to bed with a smile on my face thinking of that one... :-)

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    12. Ellen: Good. Had any rain your way?

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  12. OK, here is my second story about the second photograph.

    This photograph brings back so many memories for me but let me tell you a bit about my background.

    My parents were Officers in the Salvation Army and as such they had served in many different Corps throughout England and Scotland. Of course I was expected to sing in the Songsters and I even took up the Cornet and played in the band. However the thing I liked to do best was be part of the Timbrels that played tambourine routines.

    During my childhood and teenager years I had come across many different types of people across the country but one summer when I was17 years old, the very famous and long established Chipperfield Circus came to town. Our home at the time was quite close and my Dad took me with him when he first went to welcome them to the area and to invite them to any of his services on Sunday. We were given complimentary tickets to the show and when I saw the tightrope walkers’ act, I was hooked. As I was a very keen gymnast, and as I had all summer off school, Ronnie, the expert tightrope walker took my on board and taught me how to walk the rope. At first of course the rope was not very high but gradually it got higher and higher. Finally he said I was ready to take a turn on the high wire.

    Now before the circus started properly each day, there was a procession of all the artists walking into the ring and doing a little turn. Ronnie knew how I loved the tambourine and I was asked to play a routine on it which was very well received. That was the day my Dad took this photograph.

    I was very nervous that day as it was also the first time I had walked the tightrope in front of an audience but Ronnie had trained me well and all went like clockwork. I left school and went on to perform and travel with the circus for the next 20 years; in fact I married one of the clowns and had 3 children who all are involved in circus life now.

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    1. Margaret Adamson: I wonder how many children have 'run away to join the circus' over the years. There is certainly a romance attached to it.
      Love your story, but wonder whether her salvation army parents would have welcomed her new life...

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    3. What a truly wonderful story! Intriguing, interesting, exciting...just wonderful!

      I'm not sure if the husband would like being called a "clown"!

      Between you and EC....all husbands beware!!! :)

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    4. I used to want to be the trapeze artist and fly through the air with the greatest of ease.

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    5. Lee, the 'husband' was a wonderful funny clown that was one of the star attactions at the circus and at home he was a very loving husband and father and a fun guy to be around. certainnly never thought of burying him like Sue!!

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    6. Indeed an interesting and colorful story, and it brings back a memory of something from my own childhood when the circus came to town and drew so many children into their world of, come join the circus with us!

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  13. That's a great shot with reflection from the mirror..

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    1. Margaret - whiteangel: It is isn't it? An amazing shot.

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  14. The rear view mirror has all kinds of potential doesn't it.

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    1. Sandra Cox: Oh yes. So many different roads to travel down (and so far, mine is the only one of the dark side).

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  15. Great prompts! Love the mirror! Makes you think, something to ponder for sure!

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    1. Yolanda Renee: I am attributing the direction my story took to you and Denise...

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  16. Hmmm. Ummm. Ooh! an idea....I think. Maybe.

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    1. River: I have IMMENSE confidence in you.

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    2. River PLEASES copy your story onto Sue's post this week for all these other bloggers to see.

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  17. That side mirror view is amazing with its depth. Thanks for always visiting and commenting on my blog. It means a lot. :-)

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    1. Roland D. Yeomans: Nice to see you here. And not a problem.

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  18. Great idea to get the writing juices flowing!

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    1. librarygirl: It is also surprisingly enjoyable. I am frequently awed by the pieces created - and always fascinated at the differing directions the prompts take people.

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  19. Hmmmm, let's see:

    The darned dog had taken off with my tambourine and chewed holes in my costume one too many times; didn't he realise where the money for his dog chow came from? The last straw, however, was when he took off with my prosthetic eyeball. Nope, buster, that was your last chance...

    I glanced in the side mirror once as I drove away. Not that I was going to miss him; just making sure he hadn't already busted out of Polly Putrescent's Prison for Pissant Pups. ('Scuse the language!)

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    1. Jacquelineand...: I really don't want to think about recovering that eyeball...
      Sadly, knowing you, you might get a block or two down the road, but not more before you came back and busted the animal out. To continue chewing on your precious possessions.

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    2. Oh no save the tambourine! But love the pups too! Rascals and all. Very fun.

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  20. The road behind her seemed clear but tremors twisted up her spine. She knew she couldn't drive fast enough to escape what would surely follow.

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    1. River Fairchild: She could try. She needs to try...

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    2. put your foot down, go, go, go!

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    3. Take a sharp left, then foot down and then a sharp right. that should do the trick. Gone forever.

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  21. I popped in for a quick visit and stayed for ages reading responses to the photographs - so creative!

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    1. Kim: They are, aren't they? And a lot of fun.

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  22. I'll try this: She put down the photograph of the costumed girl, herself many years ago. Back then she had hopes of a theatrical career. That was ruined when she married her high school love. He smothered her ambitions, controlled everything she did. Now, while he was away on a business trip, she was leaving forever. She would hide somewhere far away where he could never find her. She looked back into the rear view mirror, fearful that her dream might burst. The road behind was empty, the road ahead was clear. Finally.

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    1. I like this take on that photograph. Sadly some women's lives are like that.

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    2. D.G Hudson: Sadly true. Margaret is right. I hope that she is able to live her dreams.

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  23. OMG, EC, I just read yours. It's perfect!

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    1. Sandra Cox: Thank you. I had fun with it.

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  24. It's Halloween so in honor of that a little scary.
    I drove along the sheltered road, tree branches swaying in the breeze and then...oh no, Aunt Vera was in my rear window. Grandmother's long dead sister. What does she want with me?
    Nancy

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    1. N.R. Williams ~ Nancy: Love it. I am wondering whether Aunt Vera is going to be helpful - or the opposite. I am leaning towards the latter.

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    2. NR Williams. Don't worry, you were dreaming!

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  25. Oh, I adore that second photo! Easy to brainstorm plots for what she's celebrating, or what the fallout will bring.

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    1. John Wiswell: I know you are very, very busy with your WIP. And mourn. I would love to see what you made of either of these prompts.

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  26. There she was on my rear-view mirror. Waving and shaking her hips. I looked at the road ahead of me and when I looked on the mirror again, she was gone. The night had swallowed her. :-)

    Greetings from London.

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    1. A Cuban in London: The night? Or something else...

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  27. Hi Sue,

    Liking the incorporation of photos within the theme. I actually discovered that inserting as few photos in my very rare postings are a great way to figure out something to write.

    A wing mirror without spider webs is certainly unusual....

    Gary

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    1. klahanie: I hadn't thought of the spider web issue - but you are right. Of course.

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  28. (Adding on to Lee's words above)
    Chapter Two
    Maisie May had been named for her great-great-grandmother and had grown up hearing the stories of the older Maisie’s vaudeville career. Her mother, Katie, still had the tattered, tasseled tambourine used in most of Maisie’s stage routines.

    From a very early age, young Maisie May had shown an aptitude and love for singing and dancing. She hadn’t migrated to Broadway, however; vaudeville wasn’t as “big” as it once was and the younger Maisie preferred a more regular income.
    She had become a kindergarten teacher and took great delight daily in teaching her young charges to sing and dance to the records played during Music Hour.
    To supplement this income, Maisie May also appeared in television commercials, thus satisfying her natural inclination to perform.

    When the elder Maisie passed away, her countryside home had been left to Katie, who hadn’t wanted to live away from the city, so the house had been rented out for several years. Those tenants had now moved on and the house had been empty for almost a year. Repairs were necessary and probably some upgrading too; Katie and Maisie May had discussed this at length, deciding to fix things up and sell the house.

    Chapter Three
    When the school summer break was underway, Maisie May had driven to the old home and stayed in the front bedroom while going through room by room, checking off a list of things that needed to be done.
    In the elder Maisie’s bedroom, she had spied a corner of a picture frame peeking out from behind the dresser where it had fallen, probably many years ago.
    With surprise Maisie May discovered it was a photo of the elder Maisie, taken at her very first public performance, dated and signed on the back by her father.
    (picture of girl in costume is here)
    Maisie May dusted it off and placed it carefully into her suitcase. Katie would be very pleased to have it.

    As she drove away from the old house, along the track between the trees, Maisie May glanced into the side mirror for one last look.
    (picture of side mirror is here)
    She hoped a family with children would buy the old house and turn it once more into a home, with laughter, singing and dancing spreading warmth through the rooms.

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    1. River: My immense confidence in you was more than justified. Yet another heart-warming story. Megathanks.

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    2. Maisie wouldn't have been amazed that the young Maisie may have inherited some of her genes. The young Maisie inherited the gold silk shorts, too!

      Aww...and you killed dear old Maisie off, River! lol

      Well done! :)

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    3. EC, thank you, glad you liked it.
      Lee, Everybody's gotta die sometime (*~*)

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    4. River This is brilliant. Wonderful to continue with Lee's theme and write a couple more chapters. Very clever. Many thanks for copying your story to Sue blog especially as it contues Lees.

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  29. Looks like a fun thing to do. I'll try to join in later when I have a little more time to put my brain into gear.

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    1. DeniseinVA: The more the merrier. We would be very pleased to see you.

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  30. I am loving all these stories! I smiled SO much when I read yours, EC - diabolically clever :)

    Somehow the pictures don't spark a story in my head the way words do. Interesting!

    I love the creative atmosphere here.

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    1. jenny_o: It is lovely that so many people play isn't it? I am very glad that you enjoyed my diversion to the dark side of the track.
      I wondered about the pictures as well. I am much more attuned to words than images, but something did percolate through the grey matter.

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  31. I agree with Sandra... yours is perfect.

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    1. Vicki: Thank you. Short - but not sweet.

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  32. I love this reflection.
    Have a nice day.

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    1. orvokki: It is an incredible photo isn't it? And a lovely day to you too.

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  33. It was a beautiful day for a drive. My favorite place was a quiet road in the country. Caught in the dignity of the calm I was suddenly halted by a quick glance in my rear-view mirror. A flash of light, a splash of color and I had to turn in that direction. Suddenly I saw a young woman walking ahead of me playing a tambourine. I followed her at a slow speed into a active Gypsy camp. There was laughter, singing, streamers of bright colors billowing everywhere. I abandoned my car and joined this happy life. Just for then or forever.....you have to guess.

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    1. Grannie Annie: I feel the temptation. And suspect I would find it hard to return...

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    2. Cetainly would have been tempting to never return Granie Annie

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  34. The first picture looks like a great street to drive on. The second reminds me of photos in my MILs photo album. :) Here to wish you a happy rest of the week. :)

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    1. mail4rosey: That first photo looks like a truly idyllic spot doesn't it (minus the bodies)? And how I wish we had photo albums like that.

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  35. I enjoying perusing these heartfelt, sentimental journeys. And then Jacqueline hits us with prosthetic eyeballs. Lol. Love that Jac!

    Be well, EC.

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    1. Rawknrobyn: Even my sentimental journey? Lol indeed.
      And Jac's take made (and makes) me smile. Have a wonderful week.

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  36. I do feel good things will come again to the old place!

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  37. Great photos! I chose to write on the mirror. It is a green-thing.

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    1. Susan Kane: I have seen, and thoroughly enjoyed your take on the prompts.

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    2. Susan Kane where i your story? I would be interested to read 'the green thing' as I ma Irish!

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  38. Heartwarming story, loved it and the photos.

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    1. Olivia Rose: They are amazing prompts aren't they?

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  39. They mak me think that the mirror always lets us look back at ourselves, but never forwards (fortunately)

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    1. .... e .... (you forgot me ... eeeee)

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    2. Andrew R. Scott: I avoid mirrors - whichever direction they are showing me. Those eeeees are tricky little beggars.

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  40. Granny Annie also gave a great response to the prompt.
    Kudos.

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  41. 30 years. How time can fly. Or drag. I've been out here every year. Every year. I don't want to come, but I have to. I need to come. That lake, down at the end of the road, it draws me. Maybe it calls to me in my dreams. Thirty years since they dragged that lake and pulled my sister's body from it. But it's yesterday to me. Fresh as a summer daisy.

    Maybe its time to leave it in my rear view mirror, move on. How do I leave her there. We were out on that lake that day, 30 years back. We'd made a raft. We were laying on our backs side by side, sun beating down, laughing away. I don't know how it turned over. We were both good swimmers, but there was weed growing up from the mucky bottom and she got tangled I guess. I went down three times to try to pull her free and out before I swallowed so much water, I nearly ended up on the bottom myself. I remember running til my lungs burned and my feet were so heavy, it was like running in a dream. To the neighbors. Up that porch, slipping, slamming shoulder first into the door. How Mr. Davis came rushing thinking, well I don't know what. Coughing and crying, I screamed, "She's in the weed, it's got her, in the lake! Emma May!" He yelled for his wife to get the sheriff, than took off with his oldest boy for the lake. There was nothing anyone could do by then.

    Been 30 years. I remember how silly she was, in that old photo taped to the fridge, dancing around with the tambourine. At the school dance. She had the hots for this little guy, a senior, who was sitting in the front row during the talent contest part of the night, cheering to beat the band.

    I don't think I'll come next year. Emma always said you got to look forward not back, or you run into things. I'm looking now, down that shaded lane that leads to the lake. And now, I'm looking forward.

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    1. Strayer: Brilliant. You have made my eyes leak. Forward is often so hard to do...

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    2. Wow. Strayer, this is really good.

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    3. Strayer This is a brilliant and very imaginative piece of writing.

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    4. Thanks Jenny-o, ED and Margaret. Nice words, appreciate them.

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  42. We drove by the beautiful gypsy dancing and shaking her tambourine. Her feet were flying, dancing to the unheard music of a time long ago. She smiled at me and said something I could not hear. I threw out silver coins which fell at her feet. She stopped momentarily to pick them up and blew a kiss to the child that I once was, and as I looked into the rear view mirror of my life, I could still see her dancing still and the memory of her magical smile lingers.

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    1. DeniseinVA: Thank you for coming back. Another piece which moves me. Sentimental and beautiful. Thank you.

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    2. A wonderful piece of writing incororatiing the two photograph. Thanks for returning to share it with us.

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  43. I love your writing prompts! I’m so glad you’re doing these again. So many good things here. Mine is a little haiku loosely based on the first image.

    One day suddenly
    The sun sets in the rearview
    Only night ahead

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    1. Ellen: Lovely to see you here. I have been thinking about you. Ouch on that painfully poignant haiku (a form which fills me with awe).

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  44. Great pics! I especially like the first one. Makes me think about something along the line of no matter how beautiful the past may be, if we waste too much time admiring the view in the rear view mirror, we can't see and appreciate what lies ahead.

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    1. Susan: You are right - but considering that second image is part of the reason that the past has charm - and should be cherished.

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  45. Hmmm. Might have to do this after October (and the end of spookyness)

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    1. Robert Bennett: It may not be still running here next month - but there will be other prompts in other places... I hope spookyness doesn't stop with October though.

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  46. "Things in the mirror are closer than they appear"...that is a beautiful road she is on!

    Cool meme.

    Thank you for your kind words on my flash.

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    1. Nilanjana Bose: Welcome and thank you. That is an incredibly beautiful road isn't it?

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  47. This one (and it is brilliant) from Sue the other creator of the prompts: It is long - so is in two parts.

    Betty hated that name, she didn't want to be 'gentlefolk', she wanted to rant and rage and tell them how unfair it all was, how pointless her life had seemed. She wanted to shout at the young people 'Run! Run now while you can. Live your life for you.' but she couldn't, a stroke had robbed her of coherent speech and the young women just smiled and said things like 'there, there Betty, don't get upset dear'



    'BEATRICE, MY NAME IS BEATRICE! And I have earned the right to be upset. Trapped in this useless body is a dancer. Behind the rheumy eyes, the wrinkles and those damned plastic teeth you make me wear is a beautiful, vibrant young woman. Oh my dear girls if only you could hear my thoughts, what a story I could tell.'



    I was born 92 years ago, the first of 5 children. Me, Agnes, Richard (the beloved son) Annie and Elizabeth. My Father was too young for World War 1 and too old for World War 2. We grew up between the wars, us girls got jobs and gradually Aggie, Annie and Beth began 'stepping out' with young men, and then to court seriously. Somehow as the eldest too many of the household chores seemed to fall on me.



    Mother had what was termed 'women's problems' and retired to her bed for at least one week in every month and I ran the family. Not much time left for socialising. But I saved up my money and followed my love of dancing and I was good, very good.



    World War 2 loomed on the horizon and eventually the black clouds of war gathered. The girls got wed quickly, just in case the worst happened and indeed, Annies husband didn't make it back. Richard got his call up papers, Mother cried for weeks and took to her bed.



    Father would sit with her for hours, holding her hand and praying.

    'Don't worry Queenie, God will keep our boy safe'.



    But God didn't and with awful timing a telegram informing us of his death was delivered on the same day as a contract for me to dance in a musical revue in the West End of London.



    Aggie, Annie and Beth floated in, and then floated out just as quickly, with 'Oh but we have families and you're so used to looking after them. You're so good at it'



    NO! NO I HAVE MY CONTRACT. I WANT A LIFE

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    1. Part two of Sue's story,
      But of course I couldn't leave them, Mother wreathed in grief that her darling boy had been taken and Father wreathed in anger and guilt that he hadn't kept his beloved son safe, and me? Well I was just invisible, just Beatrice, good solid, reliable Beatrice.



      I turned down the contract and it was never offered again. Mother and Father lived long tedious lives and eventually they died, my dream had died with them.



      I lived a solitary existence until 1 fall too many times and a stroke, ensured that I ended up here sitting in my only chair, in my only lonely room.



      But oh dear girls! Listen, ' Run, run while you can, Run and don't look back. Grab life by the shoulders and shake every bit of joy out of it that you can!'



      Beatrice opened the bag that she continually clutched, took out a photograph and stared once more at the picture taken at her audition. She held it to her heart and closed her eyes, her breathing, slowed, slowed and finally stopped, her arm dropped and the picture fell to the floor.



      Carol breezed into the room ' Hello Betty (BEATRICE! IT'S BEATRICE) time for your tea'



      Carol uttered the single sound 'Ah' and rang the bell for Matron, who rang the GP and the Undertaker before going to the room, after all Betty had no children and no relatives had ever visited. So no Next of Kin to inform. No rush.



      Carol picked up the photograph, she could see instantly that it was a beautiful young woman in her prime and wondered who on earth it could be, that it meant so much to Betty.



      The GP pronounced the death and the undertaker loaded Betty into the hearse for her final trip from Earlsmoor.



      As the shining black car drove slowly and sedately along the tree lined avenue that led to the big ornate gates that marked the boundary between Earlsmoor and the real world, the driver suddenly stopped.



      ' What's up Fred. More bloody rabbits?'

      'No George, I looked in my side mirror and I could swear I saw a young gypsy girl, with ribbons in her hair, and a tambourine and she was twirling and dancing and the smile on her face, George, it was beautiful and free. I've never seen anything like it. It was so real'



      And the moral, if indeed there is one, is to remember that we all have dreams, sometimes we don't realise them, but we definitely all have them.


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  48. Replies
    1. Riot Kitty: It was the first image which stirred my heart.

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  49. What an eclectic set of stories! I loved reading what the pictures inspired. I am thinking about what someone left behind as they watch it go in the side-view mirror

    Thanks for sharing the pictures and all the stories. :)
    ~Jess

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    1. DMS ~ Jess: The images really sparked a fire of creativity didn't they? I am so grateful to Margaret and her friend Sue.

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