She had been moseying along that long sidewalk, since she had little to do that day. The street was wide and very, very straight, as she continued to walk on. There were trees on the left and trees on the right, and they had been planted for some years.
She almost felt that she should hug a tree. But that would look daft.
A little later she entered the park there. There was a handy bench not far, so she sat down.
Opening her big bag, she took out her writing book and a pen. Then it became a poem.
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Historical Fiction Word Count: 100
‘Mark my words,’ said the red-headed woman as she looked outside from her window on the train as she stared across the tracks and pointed, ‘this is going to be a train smash, in a way, look at those two, they are off the train now, they seem to be going to the train station, hmm, wonder why?’
She tried to crane even further to see what they were doing since the station wasn’t far, she could just see the station car park, but nothing further than that, although it was clear that there was much movement around the cars in the car park.
Meanwhile, the two gargoyles were moving stealthily, crossing the tracks without being seen, of course, they still had those diamonds with them since both of them have natty satchels and several useful pockets inside of them.
The two gargoyles had already put their smartphones on silent but on vibrating instead, just to be sure, as they began to climb up the wall to the car park by the station.
They already knew that this town was too small for a cathedral, and it seemed most unlikely to find a proper large and ancient church; it was even less likely to meet some other useful gargoyles around here.
But luck could still come into play as one of the gargoyles said: ‘do just pinch me now, look at this, what a happy coincidence,’ as the two of them sniggered as they moved over to the next vehicle.
She stood reverently, bowing her head, hoping to find herself, there was no-one around, and that was what she wanted.
She began to walk, trying to stay focused, but what was the point?
But then she knew, she must do this, that beautiful nunnery.
~~~~
Image credit:Yasmin Onuș@Unsplash
This image shows a long stone corridor with repeating arches, where soft sunlight creates dramatic shadows and highlights the historic architecture. Mardin, Türkiye
Those otters were on the move. They were swimming with purpose. They had enjoyed those smallish fish, but now they are going down stream.
Previously they had been in a beck. They had been playing in little pools. It had been pleasant and good fun, but then it had been time to stride on.
Leading, like she would, she beckons. The three almost grown-up pups were alert. They could see they were getting closer, since this is the proper river, and what will they find?
Soon they were there; where should we choose? They all looked around along the bank. But it didn’t take long, fortunately, and, of course, Mister Otter was back!
‘Where is our coffee?’ wondered Scatty, ‘she’s taking ages,’ as she craned her head across the aisle, ‘but at least that lovely red-headed woman had given us our tickets, she’s so useful, never inept is she,’ as Scatty glanced across the aisle again.
‘We’re going to be branded as liars and thieves,’ muttered Joan, – Francis said, ‘well, it wasn’t us, was it, it was only them, those wretched gargoyles,’ as he glanced up, although they couldn’t actually see them, since the two gargoyles were lying on the top of the train.
‘Hush, don’t talk so loudly,’ muttered Joan, ‘we need to introduce a different topic, people can hear what we are talking about and that is not a good idea – mums the word, eh?’
Then the red-headed woman appeared holding the four coffees; she was putting them down on the table, and she said, ‘ouch, that was very hot, I got a slight injury, look, there is a small burn on my left wrist, still it’s not a train smash, as we would say – and yes, I’m crossing my one thumb for luck,’ as she grinned.
They sipped their coffees – all black and no sugar – as they were all mulling their thoughts as the train continued to travel quickly; of course, it was dark now, but they could see more buildings, ‘it’s a big town coming up soon,’ remark the red-headed woman.
A little later, the train slowed down, ‘look it’s going to stop before the town, I wonder why?’
She got up in the night that time, it was gorgeous and warm, and so clear.
The moon was full and huge, the stars twinkled beautifully.
There was planets – she knew them, and beyond there were galaxies.
She stared, and stared again, then she was moving, up and up.
She will meet and greet, but who were they?
She closed her eyes, and that was it.
And was it just a dream?
~~~~
Image credit:Steve Busch@Unsplash
The photographer described this image as; Triangulum Galaxy. Not your normal-looking galaxy. This galaxy is known as a flocculent spiral galaxy because its arms are made of patchy segments, not long, continuous spirals like you see in most other galaxies. It also lacks a strong central core of dense, bright stars. The patchy blue and red/pink areas are large star formation regions.This galaxy is 2.7 million light years away.
‘Look at that wonderful cake,’ she said. ‘Nice,’ he said. ‘Right in the middle of that excellent cake shop.’ ‘I realise that.’ ‘It’s gorgeous… three layers, lovely, and it looks rather retro.’ ‘It’s big.’ ‘It’s just that… well, I was thinking, you know…’ as her voice trailed off. He said nothing.
‘Are we moving to the next shop?’ he asked. ‘Oh no, not quite yet,’ as she lingered. ‘We could have an anniversary treat… it’s just a little bit early.’
‘Yep, that’s what we should do.’ She opened the cake shop door. He followed her. ‘It’s flower power, isn’t it.’
~~~~~~~
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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Hysterical Non-Fiction Word Count: 100
‘It’s stopping, look, that train,’ grinned Scatty, ‘we should get on it, shouldn’t we,’ as they looked to each other, ‘see, those gendarmes are past the last shed now, let’s go, and why not, there are no problems are there?’
Both Mr Cushing and The Old One looked rather apprehensive: ‘it’s my limousine,’ said Mr Cushing, ‘I’m not leaving the old girl by that farm,’ – ‘no siree,’ said The Old One, ‘I always ride shotgun with you now, so we will have to chance it then,’ – and a moment later, they both shot off.
‘Train time,’ smiled Joan, ‘how handy there was a tiny station just here,’ – ‘more than handy,’ said Francis, ‘I am kind of thinking this could be a ghost train,’ but he muttered very quietly and no-one else heard what he said.
However, everything seemed normal as all four of them got into that busy train.
The train was moving quickly now as the red-headed woman walked through the carriages, she brushed a wisp of hair away from her face, as she glanced at a rather pretty baby who was sitting by her dad playing pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake; and in the next but last carriage, this was what she was after: ‘ooh, at last, a brew… hot coffee!’
Meanwhile, the two gargoyles had been checking out those diamonds, since of course they had got them; they had been using their smartphones since they had an inkling about something clever Reena had said quite recently: ‘ah, there it is…’
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