Hidden in Plane Sight – Alastair’s Photo Fiction

August 7, 2013freyathewriter 9 Comments

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…?

*****

– Hidden in Plane Sight –

“Look here, Givens, you need to paint the camouflage in properly! Here, give me your brush, for Pete’s sake.”

Archie Givens nodded, pretending to listen and pay attention as the uniformed NCO swirled the grey-green paint over the canvas in front of him.

“See? That’s the way! Make it count, boy! Now get your finger out!”

Archie took the paintbrush and started again, feigning concentration. Satisfied at last, the military man strode away, making a beeline for the cafeteria.

Archie dropped his brush into the paint tin and shook his head at his best mate Johnny, who was curled up on the ground laughing silently, tears running down his cheeks.

“He don’t half get me goat! I’ll bloody swing for him! It’s not as if the Jerry pilots’ll be checking my artwork on these decoys from thousands of feet up!”

Johnny sniggered, then picked up the brush and daubed out a female pin-up, complete with nipped in waist, large breasts and a come-hither pout.

“Just in case, eh ? One last moment of joy for ‘em before our ack ack girls shoot ’em down!”

*****

This is my tribute to the many artists, builders, engineers and visionaries who worked on the K, Q and Starfish decoy sites in the UK during World War II, not forgetting the women of the ATS who risked their lives manning anti-aircraft guns.

Reclamation – Trifecta Week 89

August 6, 2013August 6, 2013freyathewriter 21 Comments

Below is my offering for week 89′s Trifecta challenge word, which is ‘weak’. As you will see from the relevant blog post, the challenge is to write between 33 and 333 words of fiction, non-fiction, poetry or prose, based on the 3rd definition from the Merriam Webster’s Online Dictionary. This week the 3rd definition of ‘weak’ is:

– not factually grounded or logically presented <a weak argument>

Here’s my offering below – I hope you like it! Please check here for the other entries!

*****

– Reclamation –

Because your turn of phrase is weak
Because with only lies you speak
Because I sorrow at your smile
Because my memories are vile
Because my trust in you has gone
Because you always thought you shone
at persuasion – you were wrong.

I have learned my lesson well
I read the clues, I marked the tell
I picture you and shudder hard
I stupidly let down my guard
I was too eager, so naive
I was so ready to believe
in you – my king of thieves.

Because I swallowed all you said
I watched your TV talking head
Because I helped you win your seat
I can now undo that feat
Because the power is mine, not yours
I will find a better cause.
Democracy – for you it’s flawed.

Interwoven – (not quite) Trifecta Week 88

July 30, 2013July 30, 2013freyathewriter 21 Comments

Below would have been my offering for week 88′s Trifecta challenge word, which is ‘band’ except I didn’t use it as a verb – whoops! Too much rushing, not enough time and reading on a smartphone! As you will see from the relevant blog post, the challenge is to write between 33 and 333 words of fiction, non-fiction, poetry or prose, based on the 3rd definition from the Merriam Webster’s Online Dictionary. This week the 3rd definition of ‘band’ is:

– to gather together: unite <banded themselves together for protection>

Here’s my offering below – I hope you like it! Please check here for the other entries!

I’m going to leave this piece as it is though, since it means a lot to me.

*****

– Interwoven –

The sisters stood, arms slung around one another’s waists, motionless in the soporific heat of the summer dusk.

They had done it. They had reached the end of a day which at its start, none of them had secretly thought they would achieve – not without falling by the wayside, not without splintering with exhaustion and despair.

In the middle of the triumvirate stood the eldest, uniting them all. Battered by the implosion that had threatened to shred them all to pieces, she felt old, so very old, as the sun drowned itself in the evening sky. She knew that grey hairs had silvered her dark mop in the past few weeks, that new lines had etched her once-smooth forehead.

Badges of honour, she thought.

Despite everything, despite the tearing at their flesh as they had said their goodbyes, she felt a tiny glint of happiness deep in her chest. She had regained her sister after all these years. She had found a bond with a step-sister she had hardly known, not until recent weeks.

She imagined a band of bright steel, sparkling in the now violet gloom, linking the three of them together. Their separate pasts had made them who they are. Their united futures would honour the man they had each loved in their own, unique ways.

She raised her eyes to the stars above, grasping the lifeline of her sisters a little closer.

Thank you, Dad.