Traces – Friday Fictioneers

Here is this week’s entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!

– Traces –

They tear my beloved keyboard to pieces. I try not to mind.

Of course, my mind is taken off them levering it apart when they begin their search on and inside me, convinced that I’m carrying.

Then I remember you stroking the keys, your fingertips lingering on the black and white, finally whispering over my skin. Leaving… traces.

I’m a decoy. You sail through customs, do the switch, hail a taxi, free as a bird.

I’ll be with you soon, once they’ve finished their paperwork. And you’re buying me a new keyboard.

The best, of course.

Gargling with a Gargoyle – Alastair’s Photo Fiction

Here is my offering for Alastair’s Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below.  Why not take part? And why not visit his photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?

Copyright - A Mixed Bag

Copyright – A Mixed Bag

– Gargling with a Gargoyle –

Sally has caught The Sore Throat, as my ever-pessimistic and annoyingly accurate husband had predicted.

Sally is usually smilingly robust (like me), but today, she is distraught.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” I do my best to be sympathetic, like a good mummy, but my mind is where I really want to be – immersed in the dreaming spires of Oxford, or more realistically my distance-learning course in Middle English.

I click on the link and the photo materialises – closely followed by the best squeal my daughter’s throat can muster. She hides her face in my shoulder, her little body shaking.

“It’s only the silly old gargoyle, Sally! I thought you liked him?” This is really weird. I stroke her hot little forehead, wondering if she is hallucinating.

“But Daddy had to put one in his throat when he was poorly last week! And he washed it in TCP too! It’s too big for my throat, Mummy!”

Her little face crumples, and I try very hard to suppress a smile. No wonder she had been so obsessed with John and his morning ministrations to his Man Flu.

Time to buy a dictionary – and indulge in a quick spelling lesson.


 

Puddles! – dVerse Poetics

This week’s dVerse Poetics has been a bit of a challenge for me, since children aren’t a huge part of my story and life. Still, I was a little girl once upon a time, and I can still connect with my inner silly 🙂

So, I hope you enjoy this little ditty – and please visit dVerse to read all of the other creations!

 

– Puddles! –

Splish, splash, flubble, flosh
Jump in puddles, make them splosh
Stick your tongue out, raindrops tickle
Jewels of water, let them prickle.
Pitter, patter, flickle, flack
Umbrellas open with a crack!
Welly boots keep feet dry
Watch the rainbow fill the sky.
(And annoy your parents – ask them ‘Why?’!)