Tides of life can be as sweeping as the tides of oceans
overflowing our enthralling Earth full of allure
What there, however, once was is no longer
gone with the wind the same way as the tides do
Focus thus on your life to the outmost
let especially your love flourish into symphonic flames.
You know, my dear, you are all the musical notes
of the magnificent library of music there is
of all the musical scriptures and overtures
quintessential and essential, effervescent
all the tones out of symphonic instruments
being played on the philharmonic stage.
You know, my dear, when you are with me
it feels to me to be in the midst of creative music
you, the music, your sensual body and your heart
your eyes shining like the most bright stars
the music brought to life by your femininity the music of the Mozart…
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
The snatch had taken place as planned and the day dawned with Lord Percy, bound hand and foot in a remote cabin in the mountains.
Jim Murrell and Eddy Car were rubbing their hands together at the prospect of a large ransom that would soon be extorted from his parents, Lord and Lady Rochester.
Jim remarked to Eddy, ‘We’ll leave young Percy here and drive back into town to make our financial demands.’
‘What about our young pay packet? Are we just going to leave him here tied up?’ asked Eddy.
‘Yeah, we’re only going to be gone for a few hours. He’ll be fine.’
An hour later the two villains were in a motel about 50 miles away negotiating a pickup place for £50,000 ransom, with Lord Rochester.
Little did they know that they’d been followed by a middle aged vamp of a woman who had had Percy in her sights for quite some time. The moment they’d driven away, she entered the cabin and released Lord Percy and snatched him away to a luxury hotel where she proceeded to seduce him. Percy was overwhelmed with her charms, he’d never met a lady like this before and they got along like a house on fire.
Meanwhile the kidnappers returned to the cabin where they were aghast to find their captive missing. They were later arrested after a mysterious tipoff to the police.
Lord Percy and his newfound friend left the country together. Meanwhile the story broke as the headlines screamed.
A NOTORIOUS COUGAR ABDUCTS KIDNAP VICTIM.
The couple were quietly married and in spite of the obvious age gap and Lady Nellie’s reputation they lived happily ever after.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
 Monday said to Tuesday, ‘Although I start a fresh new week.
For some I’m an undesirable day. I blame the laid back attitudes generated by the weekend.’Â
Tuesday nodded in reply and said. ‘I know! I follow you week in week out. Most people haven’t even got over the weekend freedom generated by the absence of stress and financial pressures of the regulated working week when they wake up with me.’
Wednesday then arrived on the scene bringing the midweek blues. ‘I’m neither one thing or the other, the settled routine is now in charge and the weekend just gone, is as far away as the weekend to come. I feel the clockwork week in motion.’
Thursday was wistful and feeling the strain, that weekend feeling was clearly on the way again. ‘My spirits are lifting, the reason is clear, The weekend is once again drawing near.’
Then comes Friday with the promise of the two days to come.
‘My day will end with all cares on the run. I herald a weekend of freedom for some, when I merge with Saturday and Sunday and we three become one. We take delight when my day turns to night.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
The master painter was troubled as he was finally discharged from the select private sanatorium. Simone, his wife of thirty years was at the entrance to meet him. They took their comfortable plush leather seats in the chauffeur driven limousine.
Henri Rousseau had suffered from depression for most of his adult life and although Simone was quite used to his increasing absences, she was always delighted to welcome him on his return.
Henri, was just 5 feet tall, with a penchant for wearing long haired wigs to cover his hairless head. He was a genius, a painter who could perform absolute magic with a paintbrush.
‘Please take me to my studio, my darling Simone, I have some alterations to make to my latest painting.’
‘Are you sure you are quite ready Henri? The consultant said, you should take things slowly for a while.’
Simone sighed as she uttered these words, she was a gentle woman, who hadn’t lost much of her beauty as she had quietly endured the tumultuous early years of their marriage.
‘Yes of course, I’ve had a revolutionary new treatment, from a renowned psychologist that is guaranteed to erase the clouds of depression that have haunted me all my life. I need to get to the studio fast to reflect this treatment in my future work.’
Simone ordered the driver to change direction and head for the studio and they arrived there in minutes.
Henri rushed into his studio and using a bright blue pigment, wildly brushed out every cloud in every picture he had painted. He actually began to smile again, something he’d almost forgotten.
‘You see Simone! I’m a well man now and in the future I will be forever erasing clouds from my work and my life.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
The geological survey group were following the Euphrates, the longest river in Western Asia.
Led by Professor Armitage of Cambridge University, and his wife Elaine the group were exploring the fertile valleys along the riverside. Their guides and erstwhile travelling companions were Mustafa, Eren, Ahmet and Burak.
Mustafa, a tall man, with dark penetrating eyes and an eagle’s beak, shaped nose, approached the Professor.
‘We will soon arrive in the beautiful valley of Kamacha, Sir. There is a large tribe there who have been known to be quite violent to strangers. I recommend we follow and respect their customs vigilantly.’
Burak, his fellow traveller, who was standing beside him nodded his head in agreement.
‘Of course;’ responded the Professor, ‘We’re prepared to treat everyone with mutual dignity and respect.’
Burak, a stocky, medium-height individual with long greasy dark hair, hitched his rifle over his shoulder and silently grinned.
Professor Armitage then suggested a couple of members of the team should reconnoiter and report back. This idea was greeted with enthusiasm all round and the other members of the team would follow.
   Morning broke splendidly over the river as the expedition reached Kamacha. They were greeted by a large group of local tribesmen, heavily armed with vicious knives and spears. Suddenly a huge obese man wearing nothing but a loincloth grabbed Elaine and started passionately kissing her. An overweight half naked lady then grabbed hold of the Professor and proceeded to kiss him all over his face. Several tribesmen suddenly were kissing the other male members of the expedition.
Professor Armitage jumped back in horror and pulled his wife away.
Mustafa shouted, ‘Have a care Sir, we promised to respect their customs and this is their form of greeting.
PASSING-ON THE PASSIONS 
I AM THE WEEKEND 
ERASING CLOUDS
johnandmargaret1607 