or I’ll drive home without you, and it’s getting dark!”
“Alright, I’ve done it! My name is submitted.
I can’t turn back, I’ve just committed
to read aloud, the spotlight’s on me.
So please, I beg, will you get me a tea?”
“Too late, my dear, the lights have turned low.
He’s calling your name – get on with the show!”
———-
Tonight, Claudia is hosting dVerse Meeting the Bar and has asked us to write poetry in the form of conversation. Riding on the wave of yesterday’s fantastic evening where I took part in my first ever poetry reading night, at the Chinwag event at Aberystwyth Arts Centre, I decided to be light-hearted. This rhyming conversation does somewhat mirror the circular discussion my best friend suffered with me beforehand, as I dithered a little over putting my name down, should, shouldn’t I have drink, what if, what if, what if…?! Whilst my heart was pounding like fury when I started reading, it was great fun and I received proper applause, not just that kind smattering that I was worried about!
I hope you enjoy this slightly comedic piece – please do let me know. And please, do pop in to dVerse, find the Mr Linky, read a few/all of the other poems and think about taking part yourself!
‘I have saved them – they are not lost, thank goodness, oh thank goodness!’
Judah’s thoughts raced and he released a shuddering sigh, expelling the pent-up adrenalin of the past hours. All he had left in the world, and he had snatched it from destruction with moments to spare. Someone – or something – was smiling down on him.
“Hey, hands off the truck, this haul is mine, mate!”
Judah’s hot temper flashed momentarily, but he knew when he was beaten – he had no energy left for a fight with Solly, the local prize-fighter. The time for acting first, thinking later, was gone. Times had changed.
As the truck coughed into life and roared away, he turned to his small daughters standing expectantly behind him – his only reason for living, now and always.
After a long absence, I decided to return to Angela’s VisDare prompt, where the challenge is to respond, in 150 words or less, to the photo she puts up on her blog each week. Something about this photo really pulled me in, so the story wrote itself – result! I had in mind refugees escaping conflict – I have used Jewish/Yiddish names, because that is the tie in history I know most about, but sadly, the situation can be easily transferred to any conflict where civilians are the victims…
I hope you enjoy it, please do take part. I’ll be linking up now and commenting on other contributions later!
“Those damned scrap merchants are at it again. Dumping their stuff in our car park whilst they gallivant around the town! Mr Fletcher is going to go crazy! Jason, why haven’t you been keeping things under control?”
“Ah, Dad, that ain’t fair! You’ve had me chasing round this stupid car park all bloody day. It’s been chucking it down with rain and you’ve been up in the office, all cozy and warm, drinking coffee!”
“Less of your cheek, boy. And whilst we’re on duty, it’s Mr Allen to you, not ‘Dad’. Fletcher Park & Ride is a stickler for procedure.”
“Dad. I think – “
“Shush! I’m on the phone to ‘Crush & Burn’. I’m sick of these people, messing up our car parks, taking all the spaces and -“
“But Dad!”
But Dad just wouldn’t listen. He shooed his son away, intent on his revenge. They’d regret parking here, once they returned to find their precious cargo gone, crushed into a small cube of metal and wood and carted off to the dump.
Jason sighed, picturing the scene at home – a broken back door, TV, fridge and freezer gone, and now crushed beyond redemption. Mum would go crazy, never mind Mr Fletcher….
————–
I decided to follow last weekend’s footsteps intoAlistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction again, and get creative in a non-poetic way. This week, the story hasn’t been so obvious as my family history piece last week, but hopefully, it still entertained you all!
Do take part if you have time, or just pop over and read the other entries!
