Image by Sabine van Erp on Pixabay
Tired
Doris slumped down on the sofa
Coat still worn
Shoes kicked off
Tired
Too tired even to yawn
Yet she yawned the same
Tired
And she’d still the supper to cook
Had she no microwave meals?
She was too tired to look
Tired
Ever since she retired.
48words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Tired
Three Separate Stories, One United Land
Alsaldic Lands Trilogy charts its rise and fall through the lives of the people who made it great, and destroyed it
Book One ON SALE NOW
You know how it is, as soon as you throw something away, you need it. For me, it was the twenty years of notes taken from archaeological reports that covered every Eurasian country. But they were gathering dust. And I’d made no use of them. And I was moving.
Regret came the following year while walking the Mendips in Somerset, and a story began to form in my head.
I returned home and began again on the research. It was as well that I did for so much more was now known.
In 2005 I submitted a synopsis and three sample chapters to an agent. Almost the same day I was rushed into hospital with a virus that had inveigled its way into my brain. Its effect was much like a computer virus, it broke my connections. Result, I lost aspects of language.
But again, that was probably for the best. For while relearning language I also learned “how to write fiction”.
That story, begun in my head while walking the Mendips, submitted and returned with need of revisions, then simmered until I was ready to give it its final form.
And here it is.
Available as of 10th June as e-book and paperback.
Book Two follows later this summer
Lonely tree
Emerging from the mists of time to meet with me
You are ancient while I am young
Your years are numbered, mine just begun
What advice for me, what can you say
To help me face this life, come what may?
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:
You have plenty of scope and only two criteria:
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
13th May 2023, Acle to Halvergate, so many flowers all vying for my camera to snap their pics. Now to decide which ones to show you. I hope you approve the selection…
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And finally, my favourite. Lords and Ladies
13th May 2023
There were fungi too. But I’m leaving them till next week.
Hope you enjoyed.
13th May dawned bright and dry after a week of persistent heavy rain. We discussed, shall we change our plans to walk Acle to Halvergate and back, which involved crossing Acle grazing marsh. Nah, we’d take a chance on finding dry footing.
13th May 2023
The walk begins at Damgate Carr, a wet woodland on outskirts of Acle. The path is muddy but not impassable.
13th May 2023
And it’s great to see everything greening!
13th May 2023
I’ll admit, to reach this far did require full concentration! But, hey, here it’s walkable
13th May 2023
Beside us the Fleet is running high…
13th May 2023
So too the channels that drain the marsh…
13th May 2023
Any slight degree of warmth has the marshes steaming…
13th May 2023
We’re through the worst of it (mud, water-run grasses, overflown channels). Oh, but now the sun has left us!
13th May 2023
I love canola fields, such a welcome colour this time of year…
13th May 2023
Look! A proper road. I do hope we don’t meet a tractor…
13th May 2023
Talking of which, here’s some very old tractor-houses…
13th May 2023
The day has turned bleak but we trundle on…
13th May 2023
We’re now on the outskirts of the village of Halvergate. I love this place, the distant vista. Beyond that mist is the North Sea. We’re standing on the one-time beach of the long ago “Great Estuary”.
And that’s where we’re leaving it for this week. Too many photos to cram into one post. Second half next week! See you then.
image by Peggy and Marco Lachemann-Anke on Pixabay
Memories. Visits to my grandma’s. Exploring the toy cupboard.
Books there since before the war. Toys too. Cars, push and go. Vrrroom, vrrroom, vrrroom.
And the monkey drummer, complete with key. How I loved to wind it up and let it play. Tat-tat-tat-tat.
Other toys too that my grandpa had made using wood. The acrobat and the dancing man.
But always I’d come back to that drummer. Made of metal, no batteries required, just that key. Fine, just don’t wind it too far. That was the one drawback of clockwork. One wind too many silenced that drummer for ever.
99 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Clockwork
20th May 2023
I don’t have a sweet tooth, but I do love the sweet scent of flowers. And this, Dame’s Violet, smells absolutely divine after a day in the sun. The best perfume ever on the evening air.
Sweet Tooth, one of the titles from Maria Antonia’s #2023picofthe week
Little Malcolm was a horror
Something wrong inside his head
His mother said
The doctors gave him medications
The psychiatrist suggested meditations
But when Little Malcolm stole the lifebuoy
Life marked the horrid boy as dead
crispina kemp 