Dad was a happy driver, and I could sit next to him now. ‘Clunk click every trip’ as we said at the same time.
We arrived at a kiosk by the park. Dad parked his almost new car – a navy-colour Hillman Minx. I had got out, and I hurried over there. There was no-one around, but there were lots of flyers. ‘I’m going to take one of each.’
Dad had been reading his newspaper while he waited for me. Then we strolled around the park, and I had my new camera. I clicked, and clicked again. It was such fun.
~~~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Non-Fiction Word Count: 100
A moment later, Inspector Clouseau said, ‘em stepping out with my pheune,’ (meaning a phone, they gathered), he popped back to say, ‘don’t move.’
The red-headed woman stared after Clouseau, as he left the shed and closed it firmly; she then stared at all her friends, she wondered what might happen, and she wondered who would speak first, while she began to fidget a bit.
It was Francis who spoke: ‘Today is going to be a milestone,’ he said gravely, as he looked around and nobody else spoke, as that last shed seemed to echo around that particular shelf, ‘we will need a strategy, a plan and a plot no doubt, we will need to set out some rules, as well.’
‘Hold on,’ said Joan, ‘how do we know all those diamonds are real, kosher, genuine… you know what I’m saying,’ – ‘real I’m sure,’ grinned Scatty, ‘although, legitimate is a completely different kettle of fish,’ – then The Old One said, ‘sorry, why are we talking about fish again?’ – and then Mr Cushing said, ‘yes, why are we talking about fish, surely we were talking about escargots?’
Meanwhile, one of the gargoyles muttered, ‘they’ve lost the plot,’ as the two of them edged closer to that particular shelf, they looked at each other and grinned, then they looked back at those bright and beautiful diamonds.
The two of them glanced to the far end of the shed, and then they looked at the main electrical fuse just beyond, they both winked.
A railway, a railway! The two boys smiled happily.
How fun it is to ride on a train, and they could take their bikes with them.
Only a short trip, but that was fine, always lucky to be on holiday, as they grinned again.
~~~~~
Image credit: Tobias Reich@Unsplash
This image shows a scene from a railway station. The platform on the photographer’s side is empty, and you can see a train on the opposite side, leaving, engulfed in smoke/fog.
That dining room wasn’t used anymore. It’s a beautiful table, mahogany, and still pristine since it’s usually covered up. She walked around it, slowly. Almost reverently. And then she stopped at the top of the table. There were so many memories.
With her eyes shut she thought about what she’d done. A little girl, wearing a pretty dress for Christmas. And all those grown-ups.
She flashed a thought. Opening her eyes. Should she look at that covered up mirror? Would she dare? But no. Too many ghosts still here.
She’s going to leave forever. There’s just one thing she’ll take…
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Fiction Word Count: 100
there are figs galore the smell, the taste is divine so much going on
we will eat and enjoy the day squirrels too
yes, that’s right they pick lots of them naughty ones
so open presents and sit outside, lovely, and a little champagne
~~~
Loved your quartet of American cinquains, Robbie, really fab – we’re only around the corner (kind of).
For Colleen Chesebro’s #TankaTuesday #44 – 23 December 2025, where this week’s host, Robbie Cheadle’s invitation is to reflect on holiday Christmas celebrations and family gatherings, using one, some or all, of the five sensesas muses in a syllabic poem.
The red-headed woman mused while she tramped across the field on that farm, listening to everyone’s accents, she hadn’t really thought about that before, since all her friends sound pretty normal – mostly French, Paris in fact, although Scatty was originally from Ireland, and of course, she herself was from Liverpool, and there wasn’t much difference between the two of them the way they could speak together if they wanted to.
However, Inspector Clouseau was a completely different kettle of fish (as one might say), since he spoke very oddly indeed, was he really a Frenchman? she wondered, as she peered at him once again, as he marched along with his over-sized magnifying glass.
It was a long way to walk still, and the red-head woman continued to muse to herself; she thought all the things she had done in the past – breaking in, and breaking out, on various schemes, like that big safe, for example, and she and the two gargoyles had kind of helped – even thinking the three of them should have plotted a heist of their own.
She stopped… dead… as she pondered to herself, was she heartless? was she uncaring? even ruthless..?
‘Come on,’ grinned Scatty, ‘do you need a hand?’ as the two of them linked arms.
Just a few metres and all of them were there, as they crowded in that last shed -and yes, it was amazing… diamonds galore on that one shelf, as Inspector Clouseau said: ‘I am an Office of the Leu.’
The two boys had almost finished decorating the rather large Christmas tree. There were many baubles and lots of tiny lights. The two of them were trying to reach the very top of the tree to put the beautiful big star on it. They were becoming rather reckless until they decided to use a chair. And even then there had been a small squabble to decide who would stand up there.
Great Aunt Margot appeared from the kitchen. She inspected the tree. ‘Very nicely done. Have you wrapped all your presents?’ ‘We have, including that one which arrived earlier today. It said it was ‘post-haste’, and we were told to partly open the parcel, and then we had to rewrap it with some pretty paper.’ They looked to each other, and then to Great Aunt Margot. The two boys said in unison: ‘It’s for you, but we are foxed about that.’ ‘Fancy that,’ said Great Aunt Margot, as she craned over the various presents in the side table, spying that small object. She tilted her eyebrows up.
‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘everything’s ready, a lovely Christmas Eve dinner awaits. A fish feast!’
All three of them cleared everything away, then they sat around a couple of couches. Great Aunt Margot said: ‘we can open just one present this evening. We’ll choose.’ The two boys opened a big joint present. ‘More Lego!’ they yelled happily. Great Aunt Margot opened the intriguing present. ‘Ah, a book. It’s called ‘Pingo’. I’ll enjoy this immensely!’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a magical challenge hosted by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr, where they provide a photo and we, in turn, provide up to 250 words.
As she walked along the beach. And on her own. So many memories. Some good, some bad, and some in-between. Believe the impossible. A small smile. Did she believe that anymore? She stopped. She looked out at the ocean. Always beautiful – fair weather or storm. There’s no telling beyond the seasons.
How many years had flown away? Is anyone left? The sands would know. Would they say?
She turned, but looked back again. Is it over, she wondered? Another story to break? So many broken hearts… Couldn’t it be happy – just once? But it’s time to move on. For her.
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Fiction with a lot of Fact Word Count: 100
luna's on line 