MUSED MOURNING

A prompt response for Master Class ~ Assignment ~ Mused Mourning

http://ourwriteside.com/category/prompts/master-class/

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MUSED MOURNING

by John Yeo

The black-edged cards were delivered to many friends and family in distant parts, announcing the sad news, with the date and time of the funeral.
The deceased man’s wife had tears in her eyes, as she checked the wording.
The children of the couple, rallied round her, sympathetically consoling her, while holding back their personal tears.
There was no positive response over the next few days, just guarded replies expressing deepest sympathy.

The day of the funeral arrived and the dead man’s wishes were followed as the service in the little village church took place in his desired format.

We were gathered around the grave. Thirty people, composed of the close family and friends of the deceased, stood back as the priest mouthed the last rites. Some were openly crying as the poetic words were expressed over the remains of someone who was once a respected member this small community.

My mind drifted over the life of this unusual person.
His childhood spent in an unsettling wartime environment. Followed by a spell in a reasonably happy home, with brothers and then newly acquired stepsisters.
Then came Boarding school and the trials of learning in a regimented environment.

Youth, with the challenging teenage years, and the swinging sixties, with blue jeans and rock and roll. Girls and dances: Everlasting love, followed by several broken hearted partings.

Love and marriage, fulfilled with happy children and the many ups and downs of
a successful career, followed by a happy retirement.

My mind continued to rove over the peaks and troughs of this familiar man’s life.

How could he have found the dream, and lived with peace and contentment having experienced so many peaks and troughs?

My inner self, placed myself forward in time. Would my life’s end reflect the life I have led, or would my demise be just another death, mourned by the few, and forgotten by the many?

Perhaps if I follow my path through life and take life as it arrives?
My mind continued to drift, musing over the obvious realization that a life lived has already passed. The past is fixed and unchanging.

I will certainly live life while I have a life to live.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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THE RELENTLESS SEA

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The Relentless Sea

by John Yeo

  Driftwood, bobbing and bouncing on the top of the waves, was the first clue that Old Tom had claimed another unwary, unsuspecting victim.
Our hearts sank whenever large spars of wood came drifting in on the foamy, relentless, rough waves in exceptionally stormy weather.
Old Tom was the name given by the locals over many centuries to a line of cliffs that were hidden at the entrance to the harbour. Obscured from the sight of incoming vessels by the high waters. There was a large rock, shaped like a giant, hence the name and the well deserved ugly reputation.
Several battered suitcases and wooden barrels arrived bobbing into the waiting arms of the people lining the shore. These wrecks always drew a crowd of locals searching for the remains.
This wreckage seemed to be different than the usual detritus that floated into shore.

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  “I wonder if there were many lives lost out there this time. Last time Old Tom claimed twenty-nine. I hear we must be thankful for small mercies, the rocky arms of Old Tom have embraced many of our enemies in the past and saved us from invaders.” Billy Martindale said to his wife Josie.

   Josie looked pale and drawn, dragged from her customary hard routine of caring for their home, she had always accompanied her husband to lend assistance if there was a shipwreck.
“I sincerely hope not!” she replied.

  Billy and Josie had lived on the cliffs of this perilous coastline for thirty five years, a harsh way of life, that both of them had learned to accept the hard way, as they knew no other. They had two sons Bert and Jack, who had long since left the safety of their home and gone to sea.

The first of the dead floated in.

  Josie gasped, “It’s a baby! Oh no! Look Billy.”

  Then another group of bodies were washed up on the shore. These were families, and and the horror set in as the extent of this tragedy began to slowly unfold.

The Coastguards and the Lifeboats returned to shore after a fruitless search for survivors.
The newspapers reported another boatload of refugee asylum seekers had been drowned that day off the rugged, rocky coast.
At the final tally, Old Ben had claimed another forty nine lives.
Sadly the horrors that drove these people to seek sanctuary, seem so ongoing and insoluble that we can only pray for future peace and goodwill in this world.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved 

LIFESTYLES


PROMPT FOR THE DAYl

on WordPress ….Lifestyle

LIFESTYLES

by John Yeo

 When we break the word LIFESTYLE  in half, the prompt is doubled at a stroke, and becomes two separate sides of a puzzle. 

In consecutive order we start with an incredibly precious beginning;

LIFE.

Two children take their first breaths in two remarkably different cultures. A baby is born and knows just the environment surrounding him or her.

Aisha is born and steeped in the love of her parents. Raised in the style of their lives and the hardship that surrounds the family home. Aisha is a survivor.

On the opposite side of the wheel of fortune, Hank takes his first breath, surrounded by luxurious trappings,

The lottery of life dictates the style of life that a newborn child is destined to follow.

The second and final part of the prompt is …

STYLE

  Aisha using her looks and quick wit, attracts a handsome, rich. vulnerable young man. Marriage follows quickly and she develops and grows accustomed to a style of life that her parents couldn’t ever have dreamed of.

  Hank is accustomed to every luxury life can throw up. A weak man he marries a pretty young lady who is responsive to his every need. A strong woman who pushes him forward.

Hank becomes bored and begins to gamble, losing much of his inheritance, he turns to drink and is soon penniless.

Aisha gets a fast divorce from her wealthy husband and enjoys the lifestyle that comes from a large marriage settlement.

  Two different lifestyles begin and end on different planes of existence. The lottery of life sees the coin landing as randomly in life as in a new birth.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved,

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“You Never Expected a Call From Me.”

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“You never expected a call from me.”

by John Yeo

I usually don’t respond to an unexpected call as we have a well tried and excellent answerphone machine that seems to be enough to field any unexpected calls.

“Congratulations! Your lottery ticket has finally come up and I’m pleased to inform you. You have won a substantial prize. Please don’t ask about the ticket. I’m pleased to inform you that you are one of our random winners.”

Alarm bells immediately began to go off in my head, I have heard about these sort of scams, where all the caller is after really are your financial details.

“Look  here! You insolent piece of garbage.” I began. “You can take your lottery winnings and stuff the tickets up the rear end of a Bull. Wait in the vicinity and shovel up the proceeds and spread it on the garden.”

 “But Sir! This is a genuine call. You really are a millionaire. Are you seriously giving the proceeds to myself? I certainly could do with the money. I will of course donate a certain sum to charity on behalf of both of us.”

This stopped me in my tracks at once. Supposing, just supposing. No it couldn’t possibly be true, things like this never happened to me.

“You are having me on;” I responded.

“No Sir! I would like to thank you for your generosity, The children will be in touch to say thank you personally. I will see to that. I don’t need your signature as you have no ticket therefore the transfer of funds will be channelled directly to myself.”

“Goodbye now Sir, Have fun with the Bulls.”

The next day I searched the newspapers for the story related to a telephone salesperson now believed to be sunning himself in Majorca.

We are suffering the first of our April showers here. After all it  was the first of April yesterday.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

CROW TALK

 

   Something amusing happened this morning at the Allotments.

  As I reached the water butt, I noticed a large black Rook sitting on a shed roof. I started to make a clicking noise with my tongue and on the third click, the Rook answered with a guttural croak-like caw noise; twice, and sat there unconcerned before he flew away.

I smiled; it was then I noticed that I wasn’t alone; a lady on one of the neighbouring plots had witnessed the whole thing. “Good Morning!” she exclaimed.

“Good Morning!” I replied.

God knows what she thought of a crazy gardener communicating with wild birds?

TIME TRAVEL

This article was written for “QUINTET,” our Parish magazine, requesting submissions on the theme of ~ Time Travel

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TIME TRAVEL


by John Yeo

A mysterious man entered the marketplace in the town of Northchester carrying an ornate, richly decorated chest.

“Gather round folks I would like to reveal an instrument that could transport your innermost soul to places you could never dream of. I bring an instrument that is capable of changing your life forever.”

Then with a flourish, he pulled off the lid to reveal the contents of the box:
An ordinary antique black plastic telephone. A scratched, battered, extremely well used, old fashioned telephone.
The telephone suddenly rang!

The mystery man said. “This proves this is not just any old telephone, this is a special telephone.
A line to the timeline of history revealing the twists and turns of the life of the planet since time began.
To travel through the timeline one just needs to dial the year one wants to visit. No kidding! Past, Present or hopefully the Future.”

The worrying thing was when you dialed the future there was no response.

“Why was this?” You questioned the powers in authority.

Mr. Optimist replied. “There is no reply as the future hasn’t happened yet.”

Mr. Pessimist said. “There is no reply because there is no future. A bomb has wiped out the entire planet. There is no future!”

There was a third person present. An old man who shrugged and said. “Hang up the phone; it is written.”

The wise old sage in the company then addressed the mysterious stranger.

“Sir! Excuse me please. I don’t think there could ever be such a thing as physical time-travel.
The end result would never be the same. People would surely travel backward and forwards in time to undo or change an unfortunate action or to rectify a mistake. Surely one person’s mistake is another person’s gain.
Some of us may not actually exist. How many times have people admitted their child sadly was the product of an unfortunate mistake?
The past surely should be left in the past. The future is surely best left in the hands of God.”

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

CRUSHED SUNLIGHT

A prompt response for Master Class ~ Assignment ~ CRUSHED SUNLIGHT

http://ourwriteside.com/crushed-sunlight/

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Master class~
Our Write Side
Assignment CRUSHED SUNLIGHT

CRUSHED SUNLIGHT

by John Yeo

      “Daddy is dying Rachel: Don’t cry; he wouldn’t have liked you to be sad.” said Ginny, to her younger sister.
Both girls were standing at the bedside of their Father.
George Billings had led a full carefree life and was in a coma, having suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage.

    The nurse bustled into the bedroom and tidied up the bed. “Keep talking to your Daddy girls, he may be able to hear you! Tell him how much you love him.”

  George could clearly hear every word but he was so engrossed in the dream that seemed to have overtaken his very being.

   Suddenly, to everyone’s surprise, he opened his eyes and clearly said;

       “I can’t let myself crush the sunlight!”

Then he returned to his dream and seemed oblivious of everything.

      ‘Sera and Simu were tiny bugs that fed on the nectar provided by a huge Sunflower.
These two lovable creatures lived and loved in a microscopic world that is invisible to the natural human eye.
A world of infinite pleasures where endless streams of nectar provided by their huge flower sustained them in their eternal bug life.
Sera had a secret weapon an extra long tongue that could reach into the heart of the deepest nooks protected by the Sunflower’s huge petals.
Simu would carry the nectar crop to huge storage nests deep underground, secreted in caves formed by the roots of their home. This storage sustained them during the long sleep that was brought on by the lack of the sunshine that sustained their home and provided the food of eternal life.

   One fateful sun-drenched day in the heart of their single Sunflower home, which housed a whole community of these tiny creatures. Change erupted, in the shape of a hoard of buzzing flying giants that proceeded to steal huge swathes of their endless flow of nectar.
There was a panic among the peoples of the floral community as their world was invaded by these greedy aliens.

  The leaders met and decided there was nothing they could do except pray and implore the great Spirit to help.

   Lady Senata the superbug, the Mother of all creation said comfortingly.

       “We may be tiny and defenceless but I have a plan. I will call on the powers that are in the ether to come to our rescue!”
  Then with a crushing crash, something large collided and flattened their home to the ground. There was a sudden blackness that descended as the sunlight was crushed out and obliterated.’

   

George’s dream continued as he remembered his garden and how he used to tend the Sunflowers.
    ‘I never realized the damage my boots would do when I accidentally trod on my Sunflowers. How much life was lost as I crushed the fragile blooms into the ground.’

     “Nurse! Daddy isn’t breathing anymore!” screamed Rachel.
The nurse quickly ushered the children from the bedroom and then returned to draw the curtains, blotting out and completely crushing the rays of bright eternal sunshine.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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