She’d been kicking a football around the yard. She was a pretty good kicker, well, she thought so. She’d been dribbling a bit, then she would kick the football as hard as she could by the tall wall.
But this time, she kicked the ball too high, and it sailed over the wall. She would have to go next door. And that place was very grand.
She should just walk over there and look confident, and not get her knickers in a twist.
She rapped the door knocker loudly. But nothing. However, the football bounced back to her. Lucky, eh?
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Historical Fiction Word Count: 100
“Okay, we’re here,’ said Mr Cushing, as he gently stopped his wonderful limousine, and surveyed everyone behind him, apart from The Old One who always rides shotgun, “however,” as he continued, “I’m not sure I want to go down there, not my cup of tea (as I would say), but you can take your provisions – some rather runny brie and some crusty bread – but I think I might feed all those feral cats just over there instead.”
“Is everyone else coming down to this particular place in Montparnasse?” asked Francis – as all of them nodded; so they made their way to the nearest toll gate.
“Ooh,” grinned Scatty, “this is going to be fun, as she pulled a large bell to see who would open the huge gate, and a moment later an ancient janitor appeared.
“You may enter,” he muttered, then pointed to the left, and said, “go past those jailbirds, and don’t look at them, and maybe close your ears too, they are kind of monsters, so just ignore them – they’ve only had some misdemeanours but they’ll stay there, and probably forever.”
So they walked rather quickly, and nobody looked at those strange beings whatever they were, and that red-headed woman became pretty jumpy with all those spooky things around there, still the two gargoyles walked either side of her, and she felt rather better.
“Just a little stop here,” said Joan, “this part of those catacombs will be more than interesting,” as both of the gargoyles grinned.
Arches, arches… there are so many, and they are huge, more than huge. This is wonderful, magnificent in fact, but it’s strange that there’s no-one around. I shall continue to walk, slowly of course, I’ll stop almost halfway, it’s all ways good. But then I’ll have a ponder since it’s most appealing, and then I will wander again.
and now I am there, and the great door is open, so now I’ll move on.
~~~
Image credit:Ayşenur@Unsplash
This photo shows arches in a hallway that are dimly lit. At the end of the hallway, there is light, as if coming from a window or an open door on the side. The consecutive arches give this image a sense of depth.
“Shall we stop for a bit?” asked one of the boys. “Yes, good thinking, we’ve been riding for ages.” “Such a good place here, and right by the nice village pond.” So, the two of them got off, and put their bikes down, then walked down to the pond.
“This is great, isn’t it,” grinned one of them. “Should we have a little paddle?” “We could, although it looks a bit deep, or at least a bit uncomfortable.” “Okay, let’s walk a little further.”
“Now look at this, this is fab!” “Gosh, this tree is ancient, isn’t it?” “It’s called a weeping willow tree, I think.” “Well, it looks like the Whomping Willow in Harry Potter’s Hogwarts school grounds.” “I do like that idea of that – a magical tree…” “… although that could be pretty dangerous.” The two of them grinned for a bit, then said together: “we’ll ride again.”
We had been spying from another building for most of the morning. There was something going on down there. That large open-air swimming pool was the target. Definitely.
We continued to watch while eating and drinking, but not moving our eyes. Everything must be tangible. Real… really real, as we peered down. Whatever would occur, we would be ready.
That must be the actual target. Both of us were in agreement. It was time to go.
It wouldn’t take too long. We’re not deluded. Definitely not. But something had gone wrong. Still, we would be fine. We’ll just deny everything.
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Just the facts Word Count: 100
“Magnificent!” said Mr Cushing, “Wow!” said Scatty, “Amazing!” said Joan, “Awesome!” said The Old One, and then the red-headed woman grinned and said, “What a wonderful wall!” as Francis seized his violin and picked several interesting chords.
The two gargoyles nodded and then said, “this is the best way to bring art and music together, as all of them smiled, while several of them did a couple of high fives, then they all looked at that fabulous wall again including the two gargoyles.
“It’s all very well but what are we going to do now?” wondered the red-headed woman, as the two gargoyles were clearly happy to move on to do something else.
“I know, and this will be good,” grinned Scatty, “and I don’t think we have been to this place all together before; it’s great, it’s interesting, and a tiny bit scary, it’s not too far although transport is very useful to go there, but then it goes down… down… down.
“Aha, I’ve got your drift,” grinned Francis, and then he said: “it’s not dangerous but we do need to be cautious, it’s very dark naturally and the walls and the floors will twist and turn, they go huge sometimes and then they go rather small and tight, but we shouldn’t get lost, since I have my very useful compass,” as Francis pulled it out to show them.
So off they went with Mr Cushing with his excellent limo, and the two gargoyles happily sitting at the back.
that mountain is huge more than wonderful, isn’t it it is fabulous but it’s difficult to climb still should we have a go?
~it is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves~
we will, yes, we will we have all our equipment that’s most important okay let’s go, it’ll happen and yes, we did, mountain done!
Edmund Hillary
~~~
Image credit:Karsten Winegeart @ Unsplash
This image shows an open window overlooking a mountain top. White, fluffy clouds fill the sky, and from the window we can see a grassy verge below. A fence is guarding the edge of the mountain.
The two boys had just left that rather nice woman, who had said that she would be happy to see them some time in the future. “Fun, eh,” grinned one of the boys. “Oh yes, that huge house was amazing.” “It’s called The Old Hall.” “That’s right.” She had laughed a lot, since she said her name is Ms Hall. “Still, we need to get moving now,” as the two boys started to pedal more quickly.
Then they continued to bike by the little lane. “Look just over there. There’s two lovely cows who are munching in the long grass.” “But that’s not where they stay normally, surely?”
The two of them slowed down to see what was going on. “Oh look, that farmer is just there, he’s going to herd them back where they are supposed to be.” “Well, I’m saying, phew.” “Quite right.”
I wandered that day. Such a nice spring… or was it autumn? But matters not. I had no worries, none at all. It was just a wandering thing. Or maybe a pondering thing. That’s almost the same. At least, I believed that at the time.
And then there were those different signs. This way, that way, or go back… Oh, this is the best one. A tea party!
Time, definitely.
But then it became a bit odd. Very odd.
I seemed to fall. And I dropped down into a hole. My goodness, am I a rabbit?! But no, I’m Alice!
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Anecdote Word Count: 100
The red-headed woman grinned happily, while backing back from the large living room where the two gargoyles were still busy working to finish painting the walls; they both pretended to be stern to her, but it was only because they wanted to make sure everything would be done later today.
The red-headed woman walked to the wonderful library where there were so many beautiful books, but on this occasion Francis and The Old One were playing chess, and very complicated too, since there were three levels on the crystal board game.
She watched for a little while saying nothing, since they were concentrating so much; so she wandered along the hall, where she found Joan and Scatty who were going to the huge kitchen just a little further on, since this was the place Mr Cushing enjoyed his cooking.
“Aha,” said Mr Cushing, “do you want to watch,” as he indicated some stools by the gorgeous streamline kitchen table, “I’ve already made some soup, and also roasted some baby potatoes which I’ve put them in aluminium foil for now, but then the main event is this.”
“I bought this earlier today, there’s a lovely market only a couple of streets away,” as he opened the fridge and took out a now filleted salmon, “it’ll be just ten minutes, would you lovely ladies want to lay the dining room table?”
And so they did, and such a splendid lunch, they’d almost finished when the two gargoyles appeared grinning, “we’ve done it!”
