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 night was perfect for Eli, he had been waiting for the full moon. There was a faint mist swirling around the huge monolith. The stones were lit up and conditions seemed just right.
He’d been sad for weeks since his lifetime partner Miriam had been killed by a lightning strike.
It was out of the blue a sudden electrical storm with wicked forked lightning had quickly blown up and taken the life of Miriam.
Eli had searched through his many volumes of magical spells and came across the perfect spell for bringing life back from the dead.
Eli had some locks of Miriam’s hair that he placed on the largest stone, known locally as the altar stone.
He intoned the age-old words and called to the misty moonlight to raise Miriam’s spirit.
Suddenly there was a heavy downpour, with crashing thunder and streaks of lightning that cut through the misty atmosphere.
Eli was struck down and died instantly. Miriam had been calling to him from the other side of the curtain of death.
Their spirits were reunited by the light of the mystical magic of a blue moon.
The storm soon petered out leaving Eli’s lifeless body draped across the altar stone. There was a smile transforming his face in death.
Here is my take on the eye-opening performance of the play ‘Les Blancs’ written by Lorraine Hansberry., currently streaming on YouTube by the National Theatre. I think this is what reality theatre should be highlighting. The unacceptable face of a whitewashed history.
LES BLANCS
Take a shack, place it in the middle of a revolving stage. Surround it with throbbing beating African music and let the story unfold. Except this was no story, this was the largely untold and hidden history of the horror and abject cruelty of racist imperialism. The hidden history of many European countries who colonised parts of Africa and bled the inhabitants dry of resources and treated the inhabitants as slaves or lesser members of humanity. This play obviously focussed on British imperialism, although it was written by an American, Lorraine Hansberry. Three African brothers are drawn together to attend the funeral of their Father. The shack represents a mission, where the local hospital is located. At the same moment an American writer arrives to research a book he’s writing on the situation in this unnamed part of Africa. The brothers are all from different spheres of life. The first of the brothers we encounter and who plays a leading role in the play has traveled from the USA, where he is married to a white woman, with whom he has a child. The second brother we meet is a priest who is preaching the white man’s religion and is thoroughly imbued with the white man’s culture. The third brother is a helper in the mission and appears to have a relationship with one of the white medical staff who provides him with alcohol and cigarettes. He is a half brother, conceived as a result of a rape of their Mother by an Army officer. There are a melange of important characters who make up the white colonial cast, including a blind elderly lady missionary, two doctors, one male and a lady doctor. The dialogue and the interaction between the various players is a powerful statement of the undercurrents of racism and revolution running through the country at a certain point in time. Revolution against the imperialist invaders is always in the background. The music and the scenes of cold blooded murder, by both the oppressors and the oppressed. There are rumours of white families including babies slaughtered by the rebels as the revolt against imperialism builds apace. Watching and recording everything as it happens in this racist microcosm of African life is always the American writer. Observing and questioning the background and behaviour of both the native rebels and the imperialist invaders. The language and the portrayal of the white supremacist treatment of the natives is shocking and the murders take place openly. The background culture of the lady missionary and the lady doctor as they try to make sense of an insensitive situation is an education in itself. The military presence is portrayed brilliantly by a cruel, racist military officer who has no qualms about shooting and killing a suspect in cold blood. The tension builds as the revolt draws closer and closer to the mission and the white population are ordered to evacuate and leave the area. As the American writer leaves, the lady missionary pleads with him to, ‘Write it and tell it as it is.’ The play makes its way to the final scenes. The remaining two brothers are arguing in a passionate scene and the priest is killed by his brother, who returns to his tribal roots and joins the rebels. The revolution arrives with fire as the mission shack is engulfed in flames. The reality behind this extraordinary play is the hidden history behind the story the author has vividly brought to life. This is the reality of a history that is never taught in schools, perhaps because the establishment is ashamed to draw attention to a past that will always be a stain on the conscience of imperialist colonialism.
Sadly I think very few people will see this performance as the bulk of the viewers will be too busy watching soaps to tune in.
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 travellers had driven the mules and the assembled pack train from the lower slopes of the mountains. They had endured a long arduous climb to a large hidden valley within the peaks. Professor Tomlinson, a well known explorer, was the brains behind the expedition. Jim Smithers was a respected botanist, who had joined the team to study the flora along the mountainous trails. There were two other members of the team, Laura, a redheaded lab assistant and Sam, a strong young English cockney man who was included to take care of everyone along the way.
The Professor addressed the team. ‘Listen everyone, we haven’t far to go, if we reach the fabled city in the sky, we will be lucky enough to contact a unique civilisation, the chances are, some of us could be wealthy beyond measure.’
Jim Smithers and Laura, who had certainly become an item, during the earlier part of the climb smiled. Marriage would certainly be on the cards now.
Suddenly they were under attack, a thousand arrows, spears and boulders rained down on them from above. Sam was the first to go down as the expedition was surrounded by the local inhabitants. The rest of the team were bound hard and foot and dragged by the mules to a golden shining city in the clouds.
How they came to tell the story of what happened next will be the subject of some more Flash Fiction another day.
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 assembled gathering were sombre to say the least, the sheriff took the prayer book in his hands and said.
‘The Colonel was a fine man who deserved everything he had achieved.’
The councillors and the local dignitaries all agreed that there’d never lived a finer man than Colonel Luke.
‘The Colonel was a devout man full of Christian charity, when he left every penny of his legacy to the town. The money will go towards feeding the poor and educating the children.’
A voice rose from the rear of the assembly.
‘He was a racist slave driver who made money out of the very people he is bettering.’
There was a chorus of assent from the gathering.
The priest intoned the words of the last two verses from the gospel according to St. Luke.
Colonel Luke’s body was consigned to the flames of the crematorium.
The feelings of the townsfolk were mixed, love and pride mixed with hate and abhorrence. Goodbye Colonel Luke.
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..
Pantrus was one of the lesser Greek Gods. He knew he was immortal, but he’d fallen in love with a mortal and wanted to make her as immortal as he was. He introduced her to the substance of immortality and when the Gods heard of this they were extremely angry. When Pantrus realised his error, he ran away and took a trip through time to the twentieth century.
When he woke he found himself in a lodging house in Brixton in the centre of London. Millie the landlady was from the West Indies.
‘Oh you’ve woken up, you were very tired when you arrived at the door last night.’
Pantrus could instantly communicate with her as he was an immortal God with extensive powers.
‘Yes, of course, I wanted to land in a place of security.
Where am I?’
‘You will be safe here alright Sir. We are a very peaceful family.
The strange gold coins you presented when you arrived should pay the rent for ages. What would you like for breakfast?’
Pantrus thought for a moment and said, ‘I would like a glass of nectar and some ambrosia please. Then I will explore the area.’
Ten minutes later Millie came back with a tray containing a cup of tea and some rice pudding.’
‘What’s this?’ asked Pantrus irritably. ‘I will not eat this strange substance.’
Millie looked puzzled and said, ‘That’s Ambrosia rice pudding and the nearest I could get to nectar.’
The play had gone down badly. Jason was in disgrace. ‘What happened to the lighting halfway through the performance?’ asked the theatre manager.
The director and the cast were non-committal, blunt and absolutely rude. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife.
Jason the leading man had actually re-written the script and made some unwelcome advances to Marlene, the leading lady.
‘You were drunk! You fool. No wonder Marlene slapped you and screamed the house down when the lights went out, that was never a part of the script. You’re fired!
We are off to visit the Sealife aquarium today. Both the children are excited and the atmosphere is charged.
‘Mum will there be real sharks swimming there? We’ve only ever seen them on the television.’ asked Billy.
‘Of course there will be sharks and lots of other kinds of fish. When you walk through the aquarium tunnels underwater, they’ll be swimming over your heads.’
Milly, their eight year old couldn’t wait to meet a special fish.
‘I dreamed about Tilly, a tuna fish who had twins and they swam all over the place in the seas around the British isles.’
‘Don’t be silly Milly, tuna fish aren’t found here, they live in the oceans far away from here.’
‘My Tilly lives in my head Billy and I can place her wherever I want her to be.’
Billy said to Milly,
‘If I had a dream about Tilly the tuna I wouldn’t eat the sandwiches Mum has made for lunch.’
Milly cried, to think Tilly had died and Billy ate the tuna sandwiches.