What, are you a freak?
I don’t say it to cheek
Just…you’re so different from me
It’s obvious in how you speak
22 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Speak
What, are you a freak?
I don’t say it to cheek
Just…you’re so different from me
It’s obvious in how you speak
22 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Speak
The season has barely begun, so this is just a few that we saw while walking the camera on 11th September 2025. But, enjoy…
As previous, I don’t label the pics unless I’m sure of the identity
Undeniably stinkhorn 🔼 and 🔽 hare’s foot inkcap
And this last one is probably a southern bracket 🔽 I get more sure of it when its releasing its telltale rusty-red spores
Hope you enjoyed this rather small offering
Yea, yea, yea, we all know the story about the troll
But look, listen, I wasn’t into that at all
I just wanted a peaceful pleasant stroll
But you know what they say
So there I was, blithely enjoying the day
Paying no mind to folks, large or wee
Cos, you know, I’m not into that
The tall tales and stories needlessly creepy
When, hah, spoke too soon!
Tripped myself upon my own tongue
Totally messed up my stroll
But that’s the wee folk for you
We just have to learn to roll
Every Wednesday I’ll post FOUR photos (if you want to get a head start you’ll find them marked in that week’s Sunday Picture Post and Tuesday Treats). Lots of choice!
And here they are:
You respond with something CREATIVE. Perhaps an answering photo, or micro-fiction, or a poem, or just a caption
As before, there are 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.
Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN
As the title says, a miscellany of pics taken during our walk of 11th September 2025. Enjoy
The sun casts a shaft of light on this ivy-covered log 🔼🔽 meanwhile, we find a ‘croc’ on a tree!
Himalayan balsam and Guelder rose 🔼🔽 always happy to see those bright red (poisonous) berries!
Rusted hazel (?!) 🔼 and alder with catkins and cones 🔽
Marsh woundwort 🔼 and 🔽 bistort
Water mint 🔼 and 🔽 what remains of this summer’s purple loosestrife, now home to a ladybird
Fruits of late summer: 🔼 Rose hips and apples 🔽
🔼 I’m not at all sure what this is. Red algae? Colourful, anyway.
Sweet peas 🔼 and 🔽 a muddle of sloes and rose hips
That’s all for now, folks. Hope you enjoyed!
Chapter Thirty-Five of my current wip. As before, all and any comments very much appreciated
Please note: This is a weekly post
Cela-Byi stood outside the fence, not wanting to open that gate. Rather she would turn, turn and turn. From this high god-hill she’d be able to see all twelve star-spirits; she had only to know where the Sun-Sky rose each day to know which star-spirit ruled the day. She grunted satisfaction. Now she’d be as star-wise as Cela-Kuci. But first, maybe Zem Jess wasn’t a star-spirit as she’d been told, but he was the headman of this god-hill dow, and he would protect her from the cats that waited inside that house – not a dow-house, not even size enough for one family.
Zem Jess hadn’t known their names, nor into which houses they’d been born, only that they were from Toki-dow and Cela-Kuci had sent them. Amusement flashed through her. She had taken him for a star-spirit and yet he knew so little. That amusement was fast chased away. If these women were unbonded, and Cela-Kuci had sent them, then she was right to call them cats. And how would they be with her now that Cela-Kuci had turned against her and wanted her dead and out of the way.
“Are you to stand at the gate all day?” a woman invisible to Cela-Byi asked in Itamakkuese.
Shivers chilled Cela-Byi’s back, her front too. Why did the woman hide? Cela-Byi glanced back to the now-deserted fly-port. Zem Jess wasn’t there. He wouldn’t know if these two dow-women attacked her, wouldn’t know until she was dead. She wrapped herself in her arms. But she still wore the dragon-skins; dragon-spirit Byi would protect her.
The woman called again, “We agree, it does not do for House Kuca to welcome House Kija. But these ‘star-spirits’ of yours know no different. They put us together.”
A second voice, female, giggled.
Cela-Byi remained at the gate. “Li-Tawan, Li-Manula, I greet you and thank you for your invitation. I bring no gifts, I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Didn’t star-spirit Kija advise you of it?” Li-Tawan now appeared in the doorway, her long black hair a tousled mess. Wrapped around her body, from her high breasts to her knees, and cinched at her waist with a belt of shells, was a grey length of an unfamiliar woven stuff. Given her by these star-men? And what had Zem Jess given her? Maybe a baby. She clung to that.
“Oh, really, Kerbi, taken in by the Cat’s Reward. Tawan is teasing you.” Li-Manula, almost a head taller than Li-Tawan, appeared behind the other’s shoulder. “Do come in – or must all the star-men hear what we say?”
Cela-Byi still hesitated. Zem Jess had related that Cela-Kuci wanted her dead. How then could she trust these two cats? Moreover, Li-Manula had called her Kerbi, not even Li-Kerbi, and that now wasn’t her name. But Li-Manula was right, it wasn’t wise to stand out by the gate where all could see, even if they couldn’t understand what was said.
Li-Manula touched Cela-Byi’s shoulder as she squeezed past the other and into the cave-like interior. Cela-Byi cast her a brief smile of gratitude for the offered friendship.
“To you, I am Segul,” Li-Manula said.
It was an honour indeed to be allowed the close form. Ought she to reciprocate and allow Manula – Segul – to call her by her close-name, Sampit. Yet no one here knew her as that. And yet, three Itamakku women alone amongst so many star-men, they’d be foolish not to stand close.
“Feast your eyes,” Segul said, arms wide to indicate the front space of the house, the equivalent of a porch in a dow-house.
“The star-men call this porch-part a cell, and the house is a hive,” Li-Tawan said. “As if they were bees.”
“Sweet honey-men.” Segul giggled. She too wore woven stuff, star-man given. “My honey-man is Joel.”
“You’ve bumped?” Cela-Byi leaned in closer, eyes wide in shock.
Segul looked down, not quite so chirpy. “You understand their talk of transition? My Joel says he’s not yet fully formed.”
“Maybe star-men more like frogs than bees?” Li-Tawan suggested.
“Fiery frogs.” Segul smiled as wide as the referenced frog. She licked her lips.
“You speak with them?” Cela-Byi asked. This hive had three cells, and within this porch-cell was a long padded-seat. Cela-Byi looked at it. “And might you tell me to sit.”
“Sit,” Li-Tawan said, herself sitting. “They say it’s not padded with deep bear furs, yet we say it is. And the crafter made it long enough for three bottoms to sit.”
“They knew Zem Jess would bring me here?” So much about Zem Jess that she didn’t know. Yet these two cats brimmed with star-men knowledge.
“Kookka said the zem was sure to bring you here now he knew we were here.”
“Kookka is Tawan’s fiery frog,” Segul said. And again, she giggled.
“But not yet bonded.” Cela-Byi preferred that was so. Star-men Kookka and Joel had given them this and given them that. Cats were the beasts with claws, yet she found herself having to hide hers.
“Manula has yet to tell you that these star-men have given us their tongue.”
Cela-Byi blinked. “When you kiss?” Was that what she meant?
Li-Tawan pulled a distasteful face. “In what they call psi-sphere. A spirit place. You should know it, calling yourself a spirit-woman.”
“Was not my calling. Was Cela-Kuci.” The other two women joined her in saying that name.
“She wants you dead,” Li-Tawan said.
“Because I called her a liar in front of the dow?”
“In Anji-Tiki’s hearing.” Li-Tawan tutted while shaking her head. “She said she raises up and she throws you down. We’re not to call you Cela-Byi, you’re not a spirit-woman, you’re just a fool to believe anything you’re told.”
“Is that so?” Cela-Byi bristled and ruffled her shoulders and stood. The other two remained seated. “So maybe star-man Jess isn’t star-spirit Kija, but he is the zem-man of this hill-dow. He has great power – and I am his bonded woman. He comes with a message for us – I’ve seen it.” It was no lie, she had seen it even though she hadn’t understood it. But she wouldn’t tell them that.
“My star-man Joel says they come bearing gifts. And he means more than this cloth.”
“Babies. That’s why the transition.” Li-Tawan stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
That could have been what the drawing showed. “And mine will be the first birth.” Cela-Byi swelled with contentment, her satisfaction spreading a smile while her hand rested on her uncomfortably flat and growling stomach. “Have you food?”
*
Cela-Byi couldn’t settle to sleep. Here was too much comfort, the bed too deep. What if she sank into it and couldn’t breathe. She would suffocate. And she still didn’t trust the cats, Segul and Tawan – especially not Tawan. She heard them whispering in the dark. They had allowed her a sleeping-cave – they called it a bed-cell – on her own while they shared the other. The front cave – cell – with the deep seat was not for sleeping. It was for talking and working. But what work? She’d brought none of her tools, only her spice pots, although she could easily make tools anew. With those she’d be able to craft fresh clothes for herself. Truth, those dragon skins were ragged in places, thoroughly worn and old. But first to acquire the grey stuff like Segul and Tawan. Maybe Zem Jess would give it if she should ask but she wanted him to give it freely, and she wanted the cats to know it.
Thinking of this helped to ease her concerns. Yet they were whispering in that other bed-cell. And if it wasn’t about her, why did they whisper? Their first loyalty was to their house, to the Killing Cat, Kuca. And she’d do well to keep the dragon skins, no matter their tattered state. The spirit-dragon Byi would protect her against their cat. Byi had brought star-spirit Kija to her and even if he wasn’t a star-spirit, he was hers, bound bumping tight.
She turned in the bed and turned again. It was this idleness, it left her restless. She wasn’t a cat to slinkily laze all day. In the morning, early, she would find the makings of her tools. She would seek out food-plants too, and maybe a small dragon or two. The food the cats gave her earlier wasn’t at all to her liking.
“What are they?” There was nothing strange about the nuts and the smaller seeds; she had helped to pulverise them on a glittering hard stone mortar. She trusted the unfamiliar fruits not to be poison. The cats were to eat them too. But the bigger seeds…before they could pound them they had to toss them on a fire-heated plate, outside.
“Grass seeds,” Tawan said. And when Cela-Byi raised a questioning eyebrow, Tawan added, “They say god-given knowledge.”
“They’re going to teach us to grow their food,” Segul said.
The star-men could teach Tawan and Segul – let them behave like dow-tamed pigs to be fed on tasteless scraps fit only for the midden – but they wouldn’t be teaching her. Besides, why would they want to know that? Didn’t these star-men realise a Itamakku woman already knew how to grow food? What, did they think they’d been sucking teats all these years?
But the star-men’s dishes, those Cela-Byi liked. They dinged with a deep pleasant sound when knocked with a spoon or a stick.
“Pottery, they call it,” Segul told her. “Baked clay.”
Maybe the star-men would teach her how to make pottery dishes – after she’d gathered the day’s food, and the makings of her sewing tools. Tomorrow was to be a busy day. If only the cats would cease their whispering so she could sleep.
Continues next Monday
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed
I welcome all comments
11th September 2025 the weather’s set fair so we decide to visit Costessey Ponds. We go there several times a year, either walking out from Norwich along Marriott’s Way, or busing out to Costessey. Today we try a new way, a footpath through several community nature reserves which will, eventually, deliver us to Marriott’s Way. Please join us as we discover what delights this new path holds
The footpath starts close to the main Norwich reservoir, entering what is at first a very dark woodland 🔼 but that soon brightens (part of the waterworks visible here 🔽) ⏬
Needless to say we’re walking close to the River Wensum 🔽🔼 a bridge is provided for foot-traffic and cyclists
Here’s a veritable wetland with slanting willows and masses of moss 🔼🔽 but the path is in good repair ⏬
A meadow separates our new-found path and the more familiar Marriott’s Way 🔽
More bridges. One runs under a road 🔼🔽 the other crosses the River Wensum
A shot I couldn’t resist, taken from that bridge above 🔼 looks like a candle!
Another bridge, this one crosses the smaller River Tud 🔼🔽 and there, we’re at the familiar resting place
I hope you enjoyed this ‘different’ way. More photos on Tuesday and Friday Fungi . Don’t miss it
First
I want to thank all those who have been reading Seed Fall. Please do continue. And thank you for the comments. In many ways this was new territory for me and I really appreciate your support.
So, What’s Been Happening?
I had thought I’d be head-deep in Seed Fall revisions by now (drafts 1, 2, 3 & 4). Instead, I set that aside while I revised and edited the story I posted on WP way-way back as Can of Worms, and later, revised, as Runewand. But now that too is on hold following an important decision.
Important Decision
I’m changing how I publish my books.
I’ve remarked before that I’d rather give my books away than make a profit. I want to be read, not make a fortune – don’t choke on that, we all know less than 1% of writers make a fortune, or even a basic living, from writing books. The problem was, how do I put my books out for free?
Not with Amazon. Sure, you can put the books out for FREE on short-term special promotions, but that’s it.
What’s more, Amazon is a restrictive market. Publish on Amazon, stay on Amazon.
But Amazon isn’t the only game in town. There is also Smashwords.
With Smashwords I can price my e-books at £0.00/$0.00 i.e. FREE. Moreover, Smashwords will put them into multiple marketplaces.
So that’s the decision. I’m publishing my books with Smashwords.
The Way Forward
Impatient to instigate this new plan, and Runewand being far from ready yet, I turned to the books already published.
I’d already removed Learning To Fly from the Amazon marketplace until such time as I’ve amended a couple of issues. I’d also removed King’s Wife, having read it a year on and groaned in embarrassment. I have now removed the remaining two books in the Alsaldic Lands Trilogy, The Hare and Adder, and Alsalda Bear.
Those books I’m now free to publish elsewhere.
Alsalda Bear’s Makeover
Alsalda is deep in my affection. And having read it again, I’m happy to republish it with no additional revision and edit. However, I do need to reformat it which is what I’m currently doing.
Also, Alsalda gets a new title and a new look. The cover reveal will come shortly, but I can tell you the new title.
SARAMEQUAI
Black Feathered Warriors
From over the Sea
While I’m happy with that strapline, I’m also considering
SARAMEQUAI
A Murder of Crows
Opinions appreciated, especially from those who read the story, either when it was posted here in serial-form in 2015, or as a beta reader in 2022.
Postscript
What was Can Of Worms and later became Runewand will now be published as The Wayfarer.
That’s all for now folks
Bill had been her babyhood friend
A friend whose love would never end
There for her through all her cares
Her worries
Her woes
Her annoyances
Her irritations
At failed-to-arrive invitations
He had endured, uncomplaining
Her tear-drenched hugs
Her coughs and splutters of contagious bugs
The tears she’d shed in happiness
The times she’d laughed in forgetfulness
She had always thought he would be there until her end
But Bill’s no more, dirty, tattered, her woebegone friend
77 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Woebegone
Here’s a few photos of the few ‘fliers’ we saw during our walk on 13th September 2021
Comma 🔼🔽
Small White 🔼🔽
Speckled Wood 🔼
Sorry, that’s all I have for you. Hope you enjoyed