Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wednesday, 17 October 2018

Words for Wednesday





This meme was started by Delores a long time ago.  Computer issues led her to bow out for a while.  The meme was too much fun to let go, and now Words for Wednesday is provided by a number of people and has become a movable feast. 

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...  We can use some or all of the prompts.

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, which includes cheering on the other participants.  If you are posting on your own blog - let me know so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.


The prompts will be here this month but are provided by Margaret Adamson, and her friend Sue Fulton.  They also include photographs taken by Margaret's friend Bill Dodds.

This week's prompts are two stunning images:



This photo is one of Bill's.

 This is one of Margaret's photos.

Have fun.  I am really looking forward to seeing where these prompts take people.

156 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. Cloudia: It is. I do hope you will join us again this week.

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    2. I am looking forward to your story

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    1. Yolanda Renee: I am really, really looking forward to reading the results of your contemplation.

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  3. Dear Elephant's Child, are you awake in the middle of the night to bring us the prompts?
    PS. Inspiring photos.

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    1. Uglemor: Aren't the photos wonderful? I was meeting a voluntary work commitment until late, and then couldn't sleep. I was afraid I would oversleep and posted the prompts just before I went to bed instead of when I got up which is more usual.

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  4. That first one is going to produce some haunting pieces.

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    1. Alex J. Cavanaugh: I hope so. And am really looking forward to the very different takes the photos will evoke.

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    2. Any story coming to your mind yet Alex?

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  5. Oh that creepy imagine in the woods is great.

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    1. Mary Kirkland: I didn't think of that image as creepy, but as sad. I would love to see what it provokes you to write...

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  6. Wow....that's going to tax the grey matter.

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    1. only slightly confused: I am more than confident your grey matter is up to the challenge.

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    2. i know you can come up with something

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  7. The fog in Beryl's mind took her on a fast track away from him. Now John sits alone on the red bench. It is still their bench, but is now as hard and empty as his heart and life.

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    1. Now i am glad i wrote mine before reading any others. You and i went in a very similar direction.

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    2. Yes my direction was similar. Good story

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    3. I'm reading the replies after my story, this bears some similarity to mine. :)

      XO
      WWW

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    4. Yes the red bench of tears ... just sad we need to live through the loss of a loved one ... cheers Hilary

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  8. Looks just like the old railroad tracks where I grew up. Haunted.

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    1. mxtodis123: I would love to see what you made of these prompts.

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    1. Susan Kane: I am looking forward to seeing where your cogitation takes you as well. Big time.

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  10. Here are my words to paint a picture....

    "The rain had tumbled down relentlessly over the past four days. Grudgingly, the grim, dull weather finally began to clear on the morning of her departure.

    A few moments after the train disappeared into the mist, as if engulfed in a dense cloud of sadness, the sun broke through the lingering clouds.

    The emotive lyrics of Roger Whittaker’s “The Last Farewell” flooded his mind. He knew he would never see her again.

    It was, indeed, their last farewell.

    Alone, he sat, lost in his thoughts...his memories...."

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    1. Yes another sad take on the prompts and well written.

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    2. And once again a sad but loving story. Thoughtful. tearful Goodbyes. Nice LEE.

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    3. So sad but lovely. That is one of my favourite songs as well.

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    4. Hi Lee - very evocative ... we seem to know when the last time comes along ... I can so easily see her disappearing into the thick mist, while it clears around him ... cheers Hilary

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  11. Running, running, running through thick trees and brush in the foggy darkness, she felt like giving up. She felt like she was running in circles, she didn't think she could escape let alone make her way out. She was sure she wouldn't. Her calves burned and her feet were raw. Sweat ran down her face, her back and her chest. She stopped for a minute to catch her breath and for the first time she didn't hear footsteps behind her. She glanced up and saw train tracks disappearing into the distance. Was it a mirage? She was so weak she couldn't be sure. She wondered if her mind was playing tricks on her. She bent over and touched the cold hard metal of the tracks and let out a silent gasp. But then she heard a branch snap in the distance. Once again she crept silently into the mist, but this time she thought she just might find salvation.

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    1. How i hope she does. This story made me shiver!

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    2. Linda Starr: I do hope she does find the salvation she seeks. You really nailed the tension in this piece.

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    3. i think this might be the beginning of a script for a Murder/Mystery film. Very good.

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    4. Trying to escape from the inevitable conclusion with little success. It Happens. Nice story.

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    5. Hi Linda - so well set up for us ... I too could see her disappearing down the line - hopefully away from her follower ... lovely - cheers Hilary

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  12. Red is what they said (that’s the Committee … pain in the butts, them be … they can never make up their minds) …

    Is it too Pumkin Orange … or will it do – he languidly pondered …

    Getting a consensus on Red will be nigh impossible … blood red – no, not right, Cardinal red … yes there are a few of those on the committee … Scarlets – oh yay, yes a few of those too … strawberry lip red – I missed my chance …

    Or a softer luscious fruit – oh! I dream of that woman … a Penelope Cruz type … my body could melt into hers … Vermilion is nearer this orangey colour … Maple red – the dying leaves … Crimson: too dark … Do you think they’ll agree to Pumpkin Orange … or will I need to repaint it brick red …

    Oh who cares – here’s to a Burgundy or Claret coloured liquid: a glass of wine in the light of sunset glow … next to ruby lips and someone with amber eyes … I dream …

    Cheers EC - hope you're feeling reasonable and healing well - all the best Hilary

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    1. Yes, this is just what selecting a color by committee comes to, i don't blame him for dreaming of something more enjoyable than the meetings.

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    2. Hilary Melton-Butcher: I love this - and the sensuality of colours was so well done...
      The eye is much as it was, but I am fine. Thank you.

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    3. We written and certainly a different slant on that photograph

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    4. Oh I do love to dream about ruby lips and amber green blue and brown eyes but now a distant memory but sweet to remember.

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    5. Thanks for your comments and I'm so pleased EC the eye is improving. I need to be back to read the entries unfortunately in a day or two! Wonderful Indian Summer here ... so off out to enjoy ... see you all soon - H

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  13. Gosh, I think this will be hard. Absolutely nothing comes to mind.

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    1. River: I hope inspiration strikes. I really hope so.

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    2. I am sure you will come up with a story soon

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  14. Peter’s whole world was shattered. Little Emily was his only granddaughter. She had been his pride and joy. He had held her the day she was born and there had not been a day that went by that he had not seen her. Every day when she was in her pram he would take her to see the ducks in Millar Park and when she began to walk, she loved getting close to them to feed them. She had no fear of them.

    Then one fateful day, she accidentally fell into the muddy water and although she was rescued quickly, she had inhaled too much water and mud and died in his arms.

    Now he sits on this child’s bench that he donated to the park as a memory of the many happy days he had spent here with her. He still comes every day, hunched over, thinking of happier times. What has made it even worse now, is on a very misty morning a few weeks ago, he bid farewell to his only daughter as he watched her train rolling off into the mist as she set off to make a new life for herself on the other side of Canada.

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    1. Margaret Adamson: Love this. These prompts have produced some sad and lovely tales this week. Thank you and Bill.

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    2. A sad story makes it all the more believable.

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    3. Oh wow...that is so heart breakingly sad.

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    4. So sad and tragic. My perspective was different on him.

      XO
      WWW

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    5. Hi Margaret - so sad to think of this ... and how often it must happen; well done - cheers Hilary

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  15. Wow--- some good stories here. Love 'em. Bill Dodd

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    1. Bill: There are indeed some good stories. Some day I hope you will join the fun.

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    2. Go on Bill, if I can do it, you can!!

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  16. My Olde English Story which has left grammarly in convulsions is available on my Blog The Daily Gaggle.

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    1. Vest: I have been to visit. You took a very different direction with the prompts - which I loved seeing.

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    1. Bob Bushell: Both Bill and Margaret did an amazing job didn't they?

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  18. Great photos, especially love the first one but then fog does tend to draw me in.

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    1. Mason Canyon: I am a fog fan too. Mystic, mysterious and marvellous.

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  19. Okay....I chose the train tracks.
    Janice smiled gently at her Dad. She hadn’t seen so much joy and life in his eyes in a long, long time.
    “Look sweetie. It’s old ‘99’. It’s been many a year since I’ve seen this old girl. Just listen to her rumble. What say we take a ride, you and me?”
    “Dad…”
    “It’s a beautiful fall day. The colour is in the trees, you can smell the leaves and that early morning fog laying along the track is calling to me.”
    “Dad….”
    “I want to go. I want to go into the fog and see what’s on the other side.”
    “I can’t go with you Dad, but I’ll stand right here on the platform and wave until I can’t see you anymore.”
    “It’s all right girl…look…your Moms here. She’ll go with me, won’t you Evelyn?”
    Janice watched as the light left her Dads eyes and she waved faithfully until she couldn’t see him anymore. The heart monitor stopped beeping and went into a low flat buzz and the nurse unplugged it and wheeled it out of the room. The old engineer lay with his eyes closed and his one hand raised and opened on the pillow in a final wave.

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    1. You may be confused, slightly, but...Yours is a marvelous little encapsulation of a much larger story. It is beautifully written and made this old guy sniffle. Well done!

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    2. oh. tears. noisy tears. well done.

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    3. A painless release but nevertheless very sad. Well written.

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    4. only slightly confused: Colour me awed. This is just BEAUTIFUL.

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    5. A very moving and well written story

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    6. Tears in my eyes too for this sad and sweet story.

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    7. Hi Only Slightly Confused ... definitely not here -you knew the story and where it was going. Loved it - that love as we sit holding our loved one's hand as they go on their way ... sad, yet delightful - cheers Hilary

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  20. I stepped down from the train, glancing back at the windows of the passenger car. Everyone's face is pressed against the glass, their eyes on me, hope mingling with despair. Beside me the engine is silent now, and ahead of me the tracks disappear into the mist.

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    1. Ohh boy....stuck on the train with no hope.

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    2. This has so many what-happens-next moments!

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    3. mshatch: More please. I love this and want to know more.

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    4. Yes this is a lovely beginning to a story

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    5. Hi MS - what happens ... a real mystery to be evolved ... cheers Hilary

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  21. Boy, that first picture sure does stimulate the imagination, doesn't it? You should get some reeeeeally good stories from that one.

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  22. Thanks for the Words for Wednesday prompt. The story ensuing fell out of had really quickly. Marvelous and inspiring picture.
    https://wisewebwoman.blogspot.com/2018/10/words-for-wednesday.html
    XO
    WWW

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    1. Wisewebwoman: Thank you so much for joining us. I loved your tale, but it scared me too.

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  23. What a great hop! I bet those pictures generate lots of great stories (in addition to a few I just read here in the comments).

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    1. Rebecca Douglass: Welcome and thank you. It does indeed create some incredible stories. And is fun.

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  24. That first picture has Sci Fi, dystopian and fantasy written all over it:)

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    1. Sandra Cox: It would fit well with lots of genres wouldn't it?

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  25. Both of these amazing pics give me plenty to ponder today! Hugs...RO

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    1. RO: They are stunning images aren't they? All praise to the photographers.

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  26. Two wonderful prompt pictures.
    Both conjure up so many words …

    All the best Jan

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    1. Lowcarb team member `Jan: They do and they have.

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  27. If you zoom in on the train tracks, it looks like there's something on them way back there. That guy looks like he has the wight of the world on his shoulders.

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    1. MarkD60: You are right, and I wonder that I didn't notice it. You are also right about the weight of the world on that poor man's shoulders.

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  28. Dear EC, normally, I like to try and write something for the prompts. But today I'm a little under the weather, so I'm just stopping by to say, "Hello. Hope all is well." Peace.

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    1. Dee: I am sorry you are under the weather and hope you recover quickly. Very quickly.

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  29. Oh, alright...


    "Retire!" they said. "Move to a warmer place, forget about being up at 3am just to haul logs down the mountain."

    And so he did. Now he had time to sit in the sun and wonder why palm trees were so different from fir trees. He and he could forget about blowing the whistle at every crossing-- and hearing the sound echoing through the trees. And he could simply sit in the sun with nothing to do-- but remember.

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    1. nicely done, and a beautiful photo too!

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    2. Bill: Thank you so much for joining in. And I love your tale.

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    3. How wonderful that you put pen to paper. You see, I knew you could do it. A great but a bit sad little story

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  30. William glimpsed the palm shadows as he walked to his bench. Sitting down slow, he said, "Well, another day, another dollar." Ginger giggled, "Oh, William! you always knew what to say!" William hung his head low. "You coulda stayed, you know." Ginger sighed. "If only. William. If only." William also sighed. "See you tomorrow?" Ginger had already faded away into the light and gray. William sadly arose and left. The palm tree would again throw its shadow.

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  31. They'd sat here together every Saturday for over thirty years. Watched the kids climb the monkey bars. Watched the grandkids chase their kites across the green. Even when the memories blurred a little around the edges, when she'd forgotten how to dress herself. Even when she'd forgotten his name. Now, it was the loneliest spot in the world.

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    1. Jemi Fraser: Welcome and thank you for joining us. I am awed at the talent on display, and my eyes have misted at lots of tales today - including yours.

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    2. This is so sad but beautifully written

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    3. Thanks for the kind words everyone. I hadn't known about Words for Wednesday before - what a glorious bunch of entries & stories!

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    4. Beautiful, but sad. I can easily picture this!
      ~Jess

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  32. Wednesday, 17 October 2018
    Words On WEDNESDAY
    Words this week involve two captions (PICS) of a rail line and a man with head cupped in his hand.sitting on a bench.

    Present day Fogsend is a depressing place. Once a thriving village but like so many other places in the nineteen fifties in Britain died of desertion when scores of unprofitable rail branch lines were closed being deemed unprofitable by then 'British rail'. It's desertion transformed it backwards and likened it to the neighbouring village of Frogsbottom; now sadly derelict and its evil past seeped in history sadly forgotten.

    It is a strange fact that most Great Plagues in history have crept up on us without warning. During the 16 -17th Centuries our people woke up to full-blown disasters. Fogsend village two leagues distant from Charlsgrove and Studhampton was where the following meeting took place in the summer of 1669 on a bright Saturday morning. When Sid a swineherd from Fogsend and a varlet by nature,; came upon an elderly bald serf sitting on a lichen covered log looking rather depressed with his head cupped in his hands. "How now" Quoth the Varlet to the thatchless serf. "Ye same to thee" I be Bert from the mill. After which as usually happens when two sons of the earth get together for a chat, after about twenty minutes the varlet spoke.

    In my my my Village the stuttering varlet Quoth, has chanced a strange happening and that which has created much marvel and Rummy is ye general verdict, in fact, I would warrant it to be rather peculiar, you see old grandfather Jim of the Mill suddenly turned Black yesterday. Black' says the bald thatchless serf well I will be blown by St Robbin the Philanderer if that doth not leave me in wonder as it came to pass yesterday where I live Fat George the swineherder hath turned black too. 'Thou dost not say; say's the varlet; of a verity I do says the Baldy I be an itinerant worker and I listen to many gossips and spread the news.

    And it came to pass one week later the 'Black Death was all over the country. and a man who did not look like Al Jolson singing "SONNY BOY" could be scarcely found anywhere.

    Much of the contents of this post caused problems with Grammarly

    The powers that be from Grammarly have sent a directive to me stating that I should give prior notice of this type of post which incidentally sent Grammarly spinning out of control.

    Vest Daily Gaggle.

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    1. Vest: Thank you for posting it here as well as your own site.

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    2. I appreciate you posted your story both on your own blog as well as Sue.s here. An interesting take this s story took today

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  33. I love coming here to read these amazing tales...
    glad you're posting this:)

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    1. Marfi-topia: There are some gems aren't there? Perhaps you will join us next week?

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    2. I hope soon you wil put pen to parer and join in the fun soon

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  34. My story is scheduled for tomorrow on my blog.

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    1. River: I knew that inspiration would come to you. I will read your story very shortly.

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  35. There are excellent stories above me here, I'll have to visit a couple of blogs and read what they wrote as well. Nice to see new people joining in.

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    1. River: I am very pleased to welcome some new players to the meme.

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  36. Wishing you a day filled with creativity and energy:)

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  37. Just back from Australia - arrived late yesterday afternoon after a long journey, including an unexpected overnight stay in Hong Kong. Will catch up with everyone soon. I really enjoyed your great city of Melbourne and the surrounding area.

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    1. David Gascoigne: I am so glad you enjoyed my country and look forward to seeing/reading more about your trip.

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  38. I love the idea of a wordy Wednesday rather than the wordless kind I see around the internet so much. I'd feel uncomfortable on those tracks if a train was about to come barrelling out of that fog!

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    1. Joey Resciniti: I suspect that my wimpy self would always be uncomfortable on train tracks. I hope you will join us on our wordy Wednesday some time.

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    2. i also hope you will have ago soon

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  39. I really want to write this prompt...can I come back over the weekend when I have more time??

    Elsie

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    1. Elsie Amata: Of course you can. I look forward to seeing what you create.

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    2. Awesome. Thank you both! I'll be back :)

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    3. I'm late but I'm here! :)

      When Bonnie remarked how dull the red bench had become over the years. He didn’t care. He watched as birds perched on top of it day after day. He didn’t care. Still, Bonnie drank her coffee, just as they did every morning at the Sunrise diner and talked about the dull red paint. He didn’t care. Two years turned into ten. Ten into twenty. Still, he didn’t care. On October 17, 2018, he finally cared. He threw bright red roses onto Bonnies’s casket as they lowered it down into the ground. Then carried the bucket of bright red paint to the bench where he wished he had cared more. He felt the sun burning the back of his neck. He didn’t care.

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    4. Elsie Amata: Never too late. I love this, but my heart aches for him.

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  40. Hope to come back to this space in a couple of days with a couple of poems.

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  41. Great pictures! Well done everyone on your stories! Enjoyed reading them all! Big Hugs EC!

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    1. Magic Love Crow: The amazing photos have prompted some great stories haven't they?

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  42. Here's my bit. Still a part of my mock autobiography.
    I'm only using the misty photo.


    "We need to go to the far end of this isle," Kai said. "The lake, where the Kelpie lives is down there."
    "But we can't go by the normal road, the police have a guard down there, and we can't use any magic tonigth. The enemy will sense it and be aware of us."
    "We must all be inside the Old Hunter's Lodge by sunrise." Sandra stated. Her black hair seemed dark as the nigth itself, and her eyes were starry holes beneath the bangs.
    "But how, The water has risen because of the storm, spring tides and syszygy." The marches are dangereus tonigt. No monn and lots of water, bog holes, will o'the wisps and elwen maidens glaore.
    All the faces turned bleak, despondent. Tonigt at midnigth Thursday began. A new victim would sure as as the sun rises find his or her way to the Stag Lake. .

    Did you know that there once was a private railway out there? Kai asked. I'm not sure all the tracks are still there, but the embankment sure is. We can use it to cross the marches.

    In the early morning they crossed the swamp on the old railway embankment.
    As they arrived at the other end of the embankment they followed the old trackbed. As they entered the woods, tracks appeared on the gravel. "They look as though thy're used!" Susan exclaimed in a loud whisper.
    "But we would hear a train going here, even as far as the Farm, it that was so" Tue whispered back. "Quiet!" Kai hissed.
    The end of the tracks were hidden in mist. The brewings of Mother Bog rose almost to the tops of the trees. Everything was still.

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    1. ... and please forgive all my spelling mistakes and typos. I forgot a spell check before posting :(

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    2. Uglemor: Loving your continuing tale. And am guilty of typos myself.

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    3. This story is not ended, I want more

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  43. I really enjoyed seeing the photos, EC.

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    1. Terry: Bill and Margaret's photos are great aren't they?

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