CCC#58: A Strange Land

Crimson’s Creative Challenge

Sedge ran his finger across the shiny surface. Strange, despite it was wet, it wasn’t cold. He knuckle-rapped it. And neither had it the sound of ice. Yet there was his wren-stone visible within it, and someone’s lost arrowheads.

He twisted his lips, pulled on his beard, and humphed.

Had the magician erred? “Join me again to my wren-stone axe,” Sedge had asked. And here without doubt was the axe he’d lost in the reeds by the water. But here too was a strange land. Had the Travel-Fungi took him astray? Yet how so, when without a doubt, his wren-stone was here.

Noises. Voices. Sedge hid beneath the wood jetty that held the strange ice, not to be seen by the strange men.

Men? He spied them, wearing strange garb in flower-bright colours. No, demons they must be. Indeed, a strange land.


142 words

A selection of the mesolithic and neolithic tools and weapons found during the making of Whitlingham Broad. Quarried for aggregates for the Norwich Southern Bypass, it was subsequently allowed to flood; nature has since reclaimed it along with its environs.

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #58

#CCC58

Welcome to my weekly challenge—open to all—just for FUN, FUN, FUN

Here’s how it works:

Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE

Here are some suggestions:

  • An answering photo
  • A cartoon
  • A joke
  • A caption
  • An anecdote
  • A short story (flash fiction)
  • A poem
  • A newly minted proverb, adage or saying
  • An essay
  • A song—the lyrics or the performance

You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:

  • Your creative offering is indeed yours
  • Your writing is kept to 150 words or less

If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)

Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN.


Archaeology finds featured as insets in the tables (outside) at Whitlingham Country Park. Photo taken on a very rainy day.

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The Tasmanian Devil

Freycinet National Park, Tasmania, by Jimmy D of Rats on Google

It wasn’t a massive boat. But neither was it small. A trimaran… claimed safe in all waters. And by the looks of the clouds that now amassed on the horizon, that claim was about to be tested.

Me, wimp, wanted to turn around, to put into shore, to wait out the approaching storm. But the rest of the party said no, we’d go on.

The wind whipped up. We furled the sails. I was glad of the lifejacket as the sea turned heavy and tossed around us.

“And up there,” said our local guide, his sun-dried head nodded towards the storm-clouds, “is our famous Tasmanian Devil. Rageowrapper.”


107 words written for What Pegman Saw: Tasmania, Australia.

Rageowrapper is a Tasmanian devil of many guises. He might appear as a towering black man, or as the darkness that arrives on a strong wind; but he’s also a malevolent spirit that takes possession of the sick and dying.

 

 

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Fibre Caps

At a distance — i.e. while standing close by — these look like any other mushroom-formed fungus.

Found in a churchyard: 15th October 2019

Ah, but when we move in close…

Wow!

Undeniably a fibre cap!

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Odd Associations

Ivy in flower and wild rose in hip: 15th October 2019

Not quite opposites, but one’s in flower, one’s in berry so… Together they clamber through the hedgerows and climb the trees. While the photo was taken in October, the combination of red berries (hips) and ivy leaves are suggestive of Christmas, which makes it a suitable seasonal photo.

Opposites Attract, one of the titles in #2019picoftheweek challenge. For details see MariaAntonia

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CCC#57: Proper Milk

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #57

“Jim, pull over,” Joyce shouted as if Jim was away in a field and not at the wheel beside her.

Jim ignored her and drove on.

“Turn around, turn around,” she demanded, grown aggressively agitated.

Jim sighed. “I’ll turn if and when I find a place for turning. These country roads aren’t made for driving. And what’s the fuss with you anyway?”

“That sign back there… didn’t you see it?”

“Sure, there’s a stately house up ahead.”

“No. PROPER milk. We haven’t had proper milk since the Greys landed and did those foul things to the cows.”


97 words written for Crimson’s Creative Challenge.

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #57

CCC#57

Welcome to my weekly challenge—open to all—just for FUN, FUN, FUN

Here’s how it works:

Every Wednesday I post a photo (this week it’s that one above.)
You respond with something CREATIVE

Here are some suggestions:

  • An answering photo
  • A cartoon
  • A joke
  • A caption
  • An anecdote
  • A short story (flash fiction)
  • A poem
  • A newly minted proverb, adage or saying
  • An essay
  • A song—the lyrics or the performance

You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:

  • Your creative offering is indeed yours
  • Your writing is kept to 150 words or less

If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it
If you include Crimson’s Creative Challenge as a heading, WP Search will find it (theory)
by ‘Searching’ in the WP Reader (fingers crossed)

Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN.

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Photos | Tagged , , | 95 Comments

Raised Against Us

photo by H. Hach, on pixabay

We numbered only a third of when we started; the journey had eaten us, taken our strength, yet strengthened our purpose.

As we crested the hill, we saw our destination. A planned town, built in cruciform, four gates opening to the cardinals… four gates that would open to us, to allow us to take shelter within its wall, away from the beasts of the wild; to find soft dry places to sleep; to find fresh food to nourish us, and clean water to refresh us.

As each crested that hill, the excitement was high, yet none could find spirit to let out a whoop.

In formation, backs straight, heads high, we marched down that hill and approached the first gate… and inspected the first of the barricades raised against us, a force feared to destroy them.


Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Barricade in 136 words

 

 

 

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Deep in a Hole

Wascana Centre; Google Maps. Image by Xinan Lui

Deep in a hole beneath the ground
lived something unusual that made not a sound.

What was it, what was it, tell me quick.
Was it a snake?
A goffer?
A troll?
A stone?

Nah, none of these things, my goslings. T’were a bone.
T’were a bone of a beast, a gigantic colossus,
four hefty legs and a long proboscis.

It was a rhinoceros?

Nay. Nay-nay-nay-nay.
T’were a bone of a trunk-tooting flummoxing lummox.
A bone nigh as big as a bloody great planet.
A bone of a great lumbering mammoth.
And I’m telling yer now, it weren’t alone.


This piece of nonsense was written for What Pegman Saw: Saskatchewan, Canada

99 words

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Sunday Fungi: Jelly Ears

What more need I say? They look like ears, and they feel like jelly.

Jelly Ears: 19 Nov 2019

The sun caught these fungi just right. These last throughout the year, but need the rain to *blossom* like this. Otherwise they’re just nobbly brown bits, barely noticeable.

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