Writing Challenge ~ March 2017

[Britwitch]

WRITING CHALLENGE ~ MARCH 2017​

Another month, another challenge! Here are your March prompts…

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You can involve the prompts themselves in your piece and make your link to the prompts as obvious or as subtle as you like or use them simply as inspiration for something else. You can use part of the prompts, just one aspect of the images, or use them in their entirety.

As there are several prompts you can of course chose to use all of them in one piece or write one for each…again, it’s your writing, your challenge. You write whatever you’re inspired to write!

The word limit for this challenge is 2,500 words and your submission can take whatever form you desire – poetry or prose, complete story or a vignette. Erotic or not, serious or light hearted, it’s whatever you want it to be!!

Post only your submissions in this thread, constructive comments and reviews are to be posted in the appropriately named – Comment and Review Thread
And please, if you do take the time to read? Please just take a few more minutes to leave a comment.
The deadline for this month’s challenge is Friday 31st March 2017 with April’s challenge hopefully going live soon after.

Previous challenges and reviews can be found here.

Happy writing!

 

[Mac380]

Through the Glen

Kneeling on one knee Gordon reached out and plucked a leaf of Bog Myrtle. Crushing it between his fingers he smelt the pungent aroma mixing with the scent of the Heather that surrounded the peat bog that he now knelt beside. Looking down the glen he could see the curvature of its sides that had been cut by massive glaciers centuries before. A few sparse trees were dotted along the floor of the glen gradually thickening towards the bottom where they merged into a forest. Probably Rowan or Willow which could stand the harsh conditions and strong winds that whistled down the length of the glen. But today the winds were cutting across the glen sending the clouds scudding over the mountain tops on either side, while all was calm in the lee of the peaks.
Occasionally the sun would break through the gaps in the clouds, sending weak yellow streamers of light to caress the ground. Taking a few more leaves from the Bog Myrtle, Gordon stood and brushed off a few errant Heather flowers that had caught on his breeches, he placed the leaves in the side pocket of his rucksack next to a well wrapped package before swinging it up onto his back again.
There was no real path along the glen floor just interconnecting sheep tracks, where the animals followed the routes to the best patches of grass. The animals tended to keep to the sides just above the bog which suited Gordon, he could make good time following the up and down of the trails rather than struggle through the maze of marshland right at the bottom of the glen.
A drop of rain landed on his cheek followed shortly by another on his brow. Glancing up he could see the edge of a ribbon of rain that was going to pass over the glen in a few minutes as the wind pushed the offending cloud on its way. Still he pulled the hood of his Barbour jacket up, there was a good few miles to go yet and keeping dry was still a priority. He wished he had his walking trousers with him but the heavy woolen breeches would have to do, he was taking enough of a risk using the jacket and any government troops that might search his rucksack would have some questions about its contents.
The chance of meeting government troops down this glen was minimal, they usually stayed close to the main roads and their forts, even they were not mad enough to tackle the clansmen on their turf unless they were ordered to. Gordon had no wish to 'bump' into any clansmen either, even though he was Scottish they would still have questions and had a deep suspicion of any stranger from out-with their clan. But this glen was 'off limits' to them as well, superstition and the occult was part of their life, or rather it was a part of life they did not want to be involved in. So when tales of misfortune and rumors of strange happenings were spread amongst the surrounding clans they tended to steer clear of the place.
It was because of those very tales that Gordon was making his long and meandering way through the glen, heading, he hoped, towards the very cottage that the clansmen sought to avoid so much.
He had already passed a number of 'warning' signs designed to discourage any who might not believe the rumors and subtly hint that they might want to turn around Now! The posts with animal skulls and rags were several miles behind him now and he expected the discouragement to escalate in the very near future.
The path had veered again from the side of the glen and started to head towards the opposite side weaving across the peat bog from hummock to hummock avoiding the marshy land between.
Gordon passed the last tree that was clinging to the edge of the bog, obviously exposed to the wind, it had lost several stout branches which were scattered around its base. He stepped out onto the path and felt the ground give under his weight and a little water rise around his boot as the sponge like peat settled. Moving on, the ground did not seem to get any softer and the path looked well defined, the hummocks only rose a few inches above the bog but provided enough height to stay out of the sucking depths.
Above him the clouds opened up allowing the sun to shine through now that the rain had been blown across the next ridge of mountains. The wind still pushed the clouds along at a good pace and now Gordon could feel the occasional gust catching at his jacket as he moved to the center of the glen.
Something black flitted past the edge of his vision being carried by the wind it wheeled across his front, a raucous "Caaww!" announcing the nature of the beast.
The crow found refuge from the wind on a hummock just ahead of Gordon, eyeing him warily, another one flew in and joined its cousin on the hump, both bobbing their heads and cawing at each other.
They both took flight to the next hummock as Gordon grew too close for their comfort, a gust of wind blew in another black figure to join the two who were tapping at the mound looking for grubs. The new arrival eyed Gordons progress before turning its attention to the ground.
Turning to look back along the path Gordon could see that he was almost halfway across the bog. In the sky behind him several more crows circled and weaved on the gusts of wind, appearing to enjoy the chance of letting the wind do all the work.
Ahead the path made a sharp turn to avoid a particularly dank part of the bog, the crows had hopped onto a hummock in the middle of the dark marsh and now stood watching Gordon approach the bend in the path. As he turned the corner all three let out a loud "Caw!" causing him to glance in their direction. Just at that moment the wind came up behind him and shoved him stumbling forward into the sucking embrace of the peat.
The path in front dissolved into the murky water as it sank under him.
"Shit" cursed Gordon throwing out his arms trying to find something solid to grab on to, but all around him was soft relenting bog.
The water seeped through the layers of clothing sending fingers of cold into his muscles and weighing him down.
Using what purchase he could find, Gordon threw himself sideways pulling his arm out of the rucksack strap before flipping the sack off his back.
He pulled it around and dragged himself onto it, getting his head and upper body a few inches out of the water. He could now see a tussock of thick marsh grass just out of his reach but with a good kick:
His fingers closed around the strands of grass as he thrust with his legs, the thick grass took the strain letting him pull himself a few inches towards solid ground.
Another thrust and pull got him in reach of another tussock of grass, grabbing the rucksack by the strap he threw the sack forward onto safe ground before pulling himself back onto the path.
The crows looked on in disgust, their chance of a fresh meal vanishing as Gordon stood up dripping brown peaty water onto the path.
The route he had thought to be firm and safe had disappeared under the brown waters, he now stood at a dead end in the middle of the bog.
Muttering various expletives under his breath Gordon picked up his rucksack and turned around, the wind chilling him through the wet clothes. He stomped back along the path towards the tree at the edge of the bog, he would use the fallen branches to make a fire, dry himself out and get something warm in him before deciding his next move.
The crows called after him as he retreated along the path, their calls almost sounding like laughter and ridicule.
It took several hours in front of the fire to dry out Gordons clothes and cook up a warming soup from the supplies in his rucksack. Some of the bread in the sack had been ruined by the water and had to be thrown away, much to the crows delight.
Packing his stuff away, Gordon raked over the fire with one of the fallen branches letting the embers burn out before they could set fire to the peat.
From the branches of the tree two of the crows looked on, beady eyes scanning for some last crumbs of bread that might have been missed. Gordon was about to throw the branch to one side when a thought occurred to him.
Slinging his rucksack over one shoulder to make it easier to get off if an emergency should arise again, he hefted the branch in his free hand and made his way back down the path.
When he reached the bend in the path, he found the third crow stood on the same hummock in the middle of the dank water from where it had watched his earlier misfortune.
The path after the bend had re-emerged, looking as solid as it had before.
Using the branch he tested the path, again it vanished into the water just as it had done when he had stood on it. Testing the ground in the opposite direction yielded similar results, the crow on the hummock watched intently to see what he would do next.
The only other direction was towards the hummock where the crow now stood, not a direction any right thinking Highlander would venture.
Gordon prodded the branch into the water and was surprised to find solid ground only a few millimeters under the surface, slowly advancing into the dark waters Gordon used the branch to follow the underwater path, which headed straight for the hummock and the lone crow.
The crow didn't move when he reached the edge of the hummock, it watched him, flicking its head back and forth to switch eyes every couple of seconds.
Lifting his boot Gordon was about to step onto the solid ground of the hummock, when he paused.
Stepping back he reached forward with the branch and pushed on the hummock.
It sank, quickly submerging under the water, as the water was about to cover the top the crow flew up with a squawk and disappeared down the glen and into the forest.
Prodding around the marsh, Gordon found that the path did a sharp turn under the water just as it reached the hole where the hummock had been, it led around the hole and carried on in the same direction, towards the opposite side of the glen.
He reached the far side without any further "traps" being sprung, stabbing the branch into the ground at the edge of the bog, he left it there in case he needed it on his return or it could serve another traveler on the route.
The path now turned to continue its route down the glen towards the forest that the crow had disappeared into.
The bog gradually turned into a small lochan as the amount of water became too much for the peat to hold. The path followed the edge of the lochan until it reached the burn that carried the peaty waters on their journey out of the glen and down to the sea.
The burn flowed into the gloom of the forest with the path continuing along its bank.
The sun had dropped below the edge of the glen taking what little light that had penetrated the clouds with it, leaving the grey of dusk to settle across the land.
Gordon found a spot just off the path and just on the edge of the trees to set up camp for the night, he had hoped to be further on by now, but the unwitting 'dip' in the bog had cost him a few hours, this was as good a place as any to rest before tackling the secrets of the forest.
Gordon set up a shelter facing the fire he had built, hanging out the damp clothing that had been in his rucksack when it had been submerged.
Settling back into the shelter he let the fire warm him and drive out the last of the chill from his earlier soaking, the warmth causing him to drift off towards sleep.
The rattle of branches woke him, and a familiar black figure landed in the tree opposite him, its black eyes shining in the fire light.
"Caw!"
It fluttered its wings and settled down on the branch watching Gordon across the fire, waiting for something.
"Ah a bit of company for the night?" asked Gordon
The crow just watched him, occasionally turning its head.
"Not much of a conversationalist then? Well keep the noise down while I get some rest."
The fire crackled and sparked as the wood burnt down letting the shadows close in.
He wasn't sure how long it had been since the bird had arrived but it gave a flutter and turned to look into the depths of the forest, following its gaze, Gordon could see a purple light moving through the trees, it appeared to be following the path along the side of the burn.
As it got closer a figure could be seen at the centre of the light, a green cape and hood making it look almost spectral.
As it reached the edge of the forest it turned towards the camp, stopping at the edge of the firelight.
As if on cue the crow flapped its wings and gave 3 raucous "Caws" of greeting.
A pair of delicate hands emerged from the front of the cape and folded the hood back, a gesture with a finger raised the fire again, the light illuminating the figures face.
Emerald green eyes were framed by copper red hair and freckles that extended across a button nose but did not quite reach the pale pink lips of the woman before Gordon. The hair had dreadlocks woven into it and a blue nose stud accentuated the subtle turn of her nose.
"Why are you here?" Her voice seemed to appear directly in Gordons head, its soft Scottish accent brushing across his senses.
Reaching into the pouch on the side of the rucksack, Gordon extracted the package from next to the Bog Myrtle leaves.
He carefully unwrapped it lifting out the contents and holding it up for her to see.
A delicate blue flower and stalk was illuminated by the fire light, the crow shuffled nervously on the branch as the woman gave a slight gasp.
The flower began to radiate a light of its own illuminating Gordons own blue eyes.
A tear emerged from the corner of her eye, tracing a path over her freckles and down her cheek.
Gordon could feel the relief and happiness in her voice:
"You came!"

 

[PapaRomantic]

Flowers In the Park

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She sighed as she looked out over the park in front of her from her seat at a random picnic table. It was supposed to be a happy place, filled with families playing, dogs running, people cooking out and enjoying the beauty that was contained within the lagoon that surrounded it. But she was struggling to see even a tiny bit of the happiness going on around her.

Alex had been coming here for weeks, searching for her happiness, the answer to her loneliness. Since leaving her boyfriend a couple of months ago, life had been difficult for the young teacher. They had been together for nearly four years, and wedding plans were well in the works. She was looking forward to spending the rest of her life as Mrs. Anthony Lawrence. She had already ordered napkins and plates and placemats with the names “Alexandria and Anthony Lawrence” embossed on them. The wedding of her dreams was coming into shape. It was the happiest time of her life.

But apparently Anthony couldn’t get his ex-girlfriend out of his mind, and when she caught them having an affair – the last of several dalliances, as it turned out – she had called everything off – the engagement, the wedding planning, and the relationship. Even though she knew it was the right thing to do, she was struggling with the fact that she still loved him, even though she knew he didn’t love her in the same way.

They had met right after she had moved to the city to begin teaching in one of the elementary schools. For a small town girl like Alex, the transition to city living had been difficult, but Anthony had eased her into the lifestyle well. She became a part of his circle of friends at first, but quickly they realized they would like to be more than just friends, and a relationship blossomed. They did everything together – including sex, which was always great. She patiently waited for the moment Anthony would ask her to marry him, and when he proposed, she didn’t wait for him to ask the whole question before she blurted out “YES!”

Now that was all gone. Since her friends were Anthony’s friends before she came into his life, they remained loyal to him, and Alex found she was on the outside. In the two months since calling things off, she had spent her weekends hiding in her apartment – one she hardly ever used before since she spent so much of her time at Anthony’s. Now the apartment was a symbol of her loneliness. She hated to be there, but there weren’t a lot of other alternatives for her at the time.

Since the weather has started to warm, she had tried the park. That’s where she was on that fateful Sunday afternoon. She was so locked into her own misery that she didn’t notice the little boy who came up from behind and tugged on the sleeve of her t-shirt. Turning to see him, she realized he must be about three years old, and in his hand he had a little sprig of a wild flower, apparently picked from the grounds of the park.

“Well hello there – what’s your name?” Alex asked.

The toddler didn’t answer her question, but instead spewed out what must have been rehearsed line – “My daddy says that a beautiful woman should have a beautiful flower, so I picked this for you – it’s yours!” He placed the flower in Alex’s hand and turned to run off.

Before he could get too far, Alex yelled back at him, “Wait, come back! I didn’t get a chance to tell you thank you!” The little boy stopped and turned back around, walking back to the table where Alex sat, now with the flower in her hand. “Thank you so much for my flower. It is beautiful. What is your name?”

The toddler beamed up at her and said, “My name is Wesley Walker Watson, and that’s my dad over there. His name is the same as mine!”

Alex turned and saw a tall, handsome man watching from a distance. She smiled – her first one since stepping foot in the park over an hour ago. “Well, Wesley Walker Watson – thank you so much for my beautiful flower. And please tell your dad thank you as well.”

Wesley replied, “You’re welcome. I’ll go get my dad so you can tell him!” And without hearing the beginnings of her protest, Wesley was off again, running to get his dad. When he reached him, his dad picked him up and began walking over to Alex. Her smiled disappeared as nerves set in – she hadn’t planned on meeting anybody today, and yet there was nothing she could do about it now.

Wesley and his dad arrived at the table, and Wesley wriggled until his dad put him down. “This is my dad Wesley Walker Watson – same as me! What is your name?”

She blushed and said, “My name is Alex.”

Wesley’s dad extended his hand, and Alex shook it as he said, “I actually go by Wes. It’s nice to meet you, Alex. Did Wesley deliver the message appropriately?”

Alex smiled again. “Yes, he did – a beautiful woman deserves a beautiful flower? What a lovely thought.”

Wes smiled and said, “That was all Wesley’s idea – he’s a wise young man for his age. But I see he can tell what beauty is – both in flowers, and in women.”

She blushed again, and then she remembered that Wesley had said his daddy told him to say that. She decided she’d let that go for now, although she was flattered that at least one of the Watson men found her attractive.

Wesley started jumping up and down. “Daddy, can I go play on the toys over there?” He was pointing to some playground equipment that was just a few feet away.

His dad answered, “Of course, Wesley, but you know the rules – play well with other kids, don’t talk to strangers, and always stay where I can see you.”

“Okay, daddy – thanks!” With that, young Wesley took off at full speed to play on the equipment.

Wes turned to Alex and said, “Do you mind if I join you while I watch out for him?”

“That would be great – I’d love some company, and I’ll help you keep track of Wesley. After all, he’s a special guy who’s given me a flower already. I have to hang on to guys like that!”

Wes nodded. “He is a special guy – he’s the most important thing in my life. When he’s not with me, I miss him terribly. But our weekends together are something special – special indeed!”

Alex probed, “So you and his mother are not together?”

Wes nodded again. “Wesley is the greatest mistake I ever made. His mother and I just happened to be at the same party – first time I had ever seen her. We both had been drinking, and ended up in a bedroom together upstairs at the house where the party was being held, and well….nine months later, I’m a father. His mother is really a great person, and we tried to be together, but it just wasn’t meant to be. But she is a great parent, and we remain very close friends. I couldn’t ask for a better co-parent. But I wish I didn’t have to split time with her. The weekdays when he lives with her are horrible for me. Here in an hour, I have to take him back, and it’s always the hardest thing I ever do.”

Alex enjoyed watching Wes as he talked about his son. She could see the love in his eyes, the proud swell of his chest as he watched Wesley playing on the equipment. She knew he truly was an amazing father – the kind of father she hoped to marry one day for the kids she hoped to have.

Wes looked back and Alex and said, “Tell me about you – since Wesley said it already, what is such a beautiful woman doing in the park by herself?”

Alex looked down and told Wes her story. He listened intently, really paying attention to the sad tale she told. When it was done he noticed a small tear in the corner of her eye, and he wished he had something he could use to wipe it away for her.

Finally he broke the silence that followed the end of her story. “You really loved him, didn’t you – in fact, I think you still love him.”

Alex looked at Wes as she answered, “A part of me maybe always will, but the pain he caused will also never be erased. So I’m trying to move on, but the same loneliness you feel is always present in my heart. I came to the park hoping that will change.”

Wes smiled and said, “Has it worked so far?”

She nodded and replied, “It seems to be working. At least I’ve been given a beautiful flower this afternoon by a handsome little boy and his handsome father!”

It was Wes’ turn to blush, and then he asked, “Would it be too forward for me to ask you out? I have to take Wesley back to his mother in an hour. Would you go have dinner with me after I drop him off? Perhaps we can keep working on this loneliness thing together.”

She smiled at Wes as she said, “I would love that!”

Wes looked at his phone and saw that it was time to go. He shouted at Wesley – “Wesley, come on, it’s time to go.” Wesley came running over to where his dad and Alex were standing. “We have to run home and get your bag so we can get you back to your mom’s house.”

Wesley looked at Alex and said, “We have to go now. Are you staying, or would you like to walk to your car with us?”

Alex laughed and looked as Wes, who simply shrugged his shoulders. “Wesley, I would love to walk to my car with you and your dad!” The three of them started toward the parking lot when Alex realized she had forgotten something important.

“Wesley, I left my beautiful flower back on the table! Would you run and get it for me?”

Wesley did as asked, and returned with the flower, which he handed to Alex one more time. They resumed their walk, but stopped abruptly as Wesley announced, “We have to hold hands – we can’t walk in a park unless we are holding hands!”

He positioned Alex between himself and his dad. Quickly he put his little hand into Alex’s hand. As Wes extended his hand to Alex, he asked, “Is it okay with you if we hold hands?”

Alex nodded and said, “You yourself said what a wise little man Wesley is. I think we’d better do as he says!” With that, she took Wes’ hand and squeezed as they walked out of the park together – hand in hand in hand.

EPILOGUE – Not to give the ending away, but a picture of the flowers young Wesley gave Alex that day in the park were featured on all of the invitations, placemats, napkins and champagne glasses for Alex and Wes’s wedding, and a now 5-year-old Wesley was his dad’s best man!