Tag: SSC&B

Retrospection (Tales from the SSC&B)

Chris Hall35 Comments

Kat von Wood on Unsplash

previously

The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, had a spring in her step as she went down a couple of stairs and into the Six-Sentence-Café-&-Bistro; it was a lovely day and Tom had already made a whole load of bagels, while the Bartender was pouring a large cup of newly-brewed coffee.

‘No big bag today then?’ asked Mimi, while the Bartender lent over the bar, and said, ‘that’s very posh, going somewhere?’

‘I am indeed,’ said the Raconteuse as she smiled, ‘there’s a new gallery which has only just opened and it’s not far from here, in fact, I can even walk there; and you know, I might even buy something,’ and at that, she winked and walked out, leaving a nice tip on the bar.

She entered the new gallery, it was bright and light, and the colours danced around the room, she looked everywhere, pondering and lingering on several pieces, and then she was entranced with that particular item, she noticed the name ‘inSPIRAtion’, and it was familiar… she pulled out her phone… it is him!

She put her phone back into her pocket and walked to the desk; a little conversation, getting her card out and then seeing the little red dot, to show that it was sold; she would have it when the exhibition closed.

She held up her fist making a little punch in the air just outside, while she said quietly, ‘I’ve got a beautiful sculpture, it’s almost mine and even better I know who’s made it.’

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Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: PUNCH

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The other one? (Tales from the SSC&B)

Chris Hall49 Comments

Negley Stockman on Unsplash

previously

The Bartender was setting up behind the bar and Mimi was counting up the till, just as the red-head writer, aka the Raconteuse, walked into the Six-Sentence-Café-&-Bistro, greeting them both, ‘is he in?’ she asked, as her eyes swiveled over the long corridor where the kitchen was and then the office where the usual Proprietor was often in there.

She could hear that Tom was singing loudly in the kitchen, were he was making bread as the tiny bubbles began to rise and foam; then one of the double doors opened as Tom said, ‘it will be ready in a couple of hours,’ and he stopped – ‘you’re here, how lovely,’ as he waved across to the Raconteuse, ‘I don’t see you enough,’ he said, ‘but come this way, I can see that you need to have a word in the office down there; Tom then winked, as she pushed the other side of the door.

The tall, thin man stood in the Manager’s office, and leaned out, ‘come in, my dear,’ as he gestured to the two cozy chairs, ‘tell me.’

‘Last week I saw someone who looked like me; I was sitting in my usual alcove, and I saw her skirting around the room, and then she quickly ran out again – she was pretending to be me!’

‘Well,’ said the tall, thin man, ‘I saw both of you – two red-head women – a real person and a fictional person, but come on, that’s normal here, isn’t it?’

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Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: FOAM

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Another Full Moon

Chris Hall53 Comments

Guzman Barquin on Unsplash

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The full moon leaked across the balcony as the red-head woman looked out into the sky; suddenly she saw Joan, Francis and Scatty, who were hovering on broomsticks: ‘one for you too,’ said Scatty, ‘they are all made with hardwood and jute, and strong and light,’ – ‘come on, hurry,’ said Joan, ‘time to party – we are going around the moon – you’ll see,’ and off they go.

They were flying down the Seine and then the ocean appeared, ‘let’s go to New York,’ shouted Francis, ‘you can see the Café and Bistro, and I think you’ve been there haven’t you?’ – ‘well, kind of,’ muttered the red-head.

They crossed the water keeping with the moon, and then they landed: ‘well,’ said the red-head, ‘I’m going in and quickly skirted around the room,’ – at that moment, the Bartender was wiping a cloth on the sparkling table, as she looked up and smiled, and Mimi also waved happily as she when back to the kitchen; ‘I think I got away with that,’ muttered the red-head.

‘Come on let’s fly to the West Coast; here’s the bridge now, and let’s sit,’ – then the red-head woman hugged her warm fabric as she watched the moon rising again.

But now it’s time to go – and this is the clever bit… ‘widdershins, widdershins, widdershins’ shouted Scatty.

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Did she fall asleep? thought the red-head… did she dream all of this? but no; she looked in her pocket – it was a napkin from SSC&B!

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Di of Pensitivity 101 – Thursday’s Three Things Challenge: CLOTH, FABRIC, JUTE

Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: DREAM

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Road Trip

Chris Hall42 Comments

Photo by Ken Cheung on Unsplash

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The red-headed writer had never met this guy until just now, although they had been friends for several years, as they had been doing posts in the ether (or at least in a phone or laptop); there had lost touch for a while doing other things, but it didn’t matter now as there were both grinning.

For a couple of hours they talked and joked, what a beautiful place, she said, several times, as Bjorn laughed just like a bear; he drove long and hard on the plateaus and in the valleys, but then he turned off to a small location, almost right by the sea: ‘there’s my spot, he said.

They sat down in the warm and cozy house – there was toast and sardines with whisky – as they looked out on the wilderness.

Then it was 10.30 pm and it’s dark and she’s tired now; meanwhile, Bjorn was doing strange things in his computer, ‘bits’ and ‘bots’ and ‘non-fungible tokens’ – of which she knew nothing and she smiled as she went to bed, wrapped up next to her huge big bag.

She woke up and it was almost light; she went out and down to the beach, how many grains of sand are there, could she hold just one in her hand? and then it happened…

Suddenly, a green smudge of light materialised as the magical spectacle began; it skipped across the darkness of space, while the shimmering liquid flames danced around the sky: it was the aurora borealis.

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Denise Farley of Girlie On The Edge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: GRAIN

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May Day

Chris Hall55 Comments

© Ayr/Gray

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The ash and sulphur became so dense as the plane banked horribly and listed alarmingly – mayday, mayday – shouted the captain; at this point, the red-head writer, aka the Raconteuse, had so many thoughts but then she blacked out, which was just as well, since the plane lost power: it shuddered and quivered but it glided on the ice.

Just a few minutes later she’d recovered, she stared around, the plane was crippled and in a bad way, but it seemed that everyone was safe; and even better the volcano was silent again, just a few plumes of moulted rock and ash around.

The red-head writer realised that it would be a very long way to walk, but what else would she do; she decided that she would go alone and quickly – she was wearing all her warm clothes and she had a big bag – everything she needed.

She looked at her GPS, then set out.

She had been walking at least two hours, there was no ice now and it’s easier to walk, but suddenly the steep shale made her tumbled down, she had a long fall and stopped, she was rather shaken but soon recovered; now she saw a bank with deep water where the stream levels out – and here was the road.

A little later, she saw a huge car, she waved with her big bag, and it stopped; she smiled happily as she was whisked away by an excellent friend who drives too fast.

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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.

Di of Pensitivity 101 – Wednesday’s Three Things Challenge: SHUDDER, SHAKE, QUIVER

Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: LEVEL

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Flight 45

Chris Hall59 Comments

https://unsplash.com/@usgs

previously

The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, had been staying in her bolt hole place, a tiny flat right up on the rickety stairs, in Montmartre, near the cemetery; a useful place where she’d already sold her little picture for her tidy profit, just a week ago.

Now it was time to go, she grabbed her important things in her big bag; all she would need was some new warm clothes, buying them from a small boutique shop.

Soon she was making her way to the train, taking her to Charles de Gaulle airport, where she had been many times; she also liked to move around from place to place, often in different continents, but she’d never been to Iceland, it would be the coldest place she’d ever been.

After the usual performance to get in the plane and take off, including keeping her eyes shut for a couple of minutes, everything was fine; now she was quite happy to enjoy her gin and tonic, and look forward to seeing some of her friends from the Cafe, although what there were all doing was a mystery to her for the moment.

About three hours later, she’d been reading most of the time, but now there was a great deal of turbulence, as she put everything away and buckled up her seat belt tightly; she looked out from the window, and suddenly a huge plume of fire burst out from the volcano as it erupted.

‘Brace, brace, brace,’ yelled the captain.

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Denise Farley of Girlie On The Edge
Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: TONIC


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A little hiatus (Tales from the SSC&B)

Chris Hall50 Comments

The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, slides down onto the small flat-roofed section of the old mill building, scanning around while holding her huge bag. The most important new thing was the swanky penthouse on the opposite street where the Bartender stays there most of the time, particularly when the lovely dog, Hūnga, was home too; she’d invited her to stay but the red-head had declined.

She’d had thought about it, but she felt she should stay somewhere else – and in fact, she’d made a little nest, just next to the long-defunct elevator machine room on the top floor, that was all she needed.

She took out her notebook and pencil and started to write, but nothing would come out; she stares at the sky and then she tries again, but no, nothing. She decided to read her new Kindle – she has a lot of catching up to do – but it’s worth it; she settles down on her great big bag, making herself comfy.

Rather later she woke up, but now she’s refreshed and she’s happy to go down to the ground floor; it’s time to enjoy the evening.

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Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge’s Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: SLIDE

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Equinox

Chris Hall66 Comments

© Ayr/Gray

It’s late afternoon as I walked along the sand dunes near the sea, smiling as I hopped down the bank to the beach, striding along to the rock pools, then poking around to see what was there; I could be busy for hours.

As it was getting into evening, it was still warm as I walked around the edge of the ocean, looking far out in the lovely False Bay; then I looked back at the harbour, as I waved at Jannie who’s a fishermen, who works to catch squid and octopus in the dark sea in the night.

Much later, I flung open my window, and there she was, the beautiful moon, Selene. There she stood alone, with all the stars around her; her gibbous moon lay on her back, arching her jewelled scimitar.

I shut my eyes for a moment, and then I saw the octopuses dancing up in the sky, shooting stars around the world, for twice a year it’s the equinox, as the celestial moon brings the spring rebirth, while the harvest moon must rest for the winter. Meanwhile, the octopuses play in the Milky Way, because all of the octopuses are aliens.

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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.

Denise Farley of GirlieOnTheEdge’s Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: BANK

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Harvest Moon

Chris Hall59 Comments

© Ayr/Gray

The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, had a plan – she was on WhatsApp with Jenne, Denise and Mimi, telling them that she was still a little magic left in her journey around the world; we’ll meet tomorrow, and don’t worry about the different time zones, I’ll handle it.

Now they were sitting in a beautiful wine garden in the château in Franschhoek, right by the vineyards where they are bringing back the harvest – you see, it was autumn in the southern hemisphere. In a little while two waiters brought wine, juice and delicious food; then they rested – it was so peaceful and calm, and they must have drifted into slumber for a while.

Later, they woke up and it was almost dark; they walked along the Huguenots Monument and further, now it was rather steep, rugged and remote; they laid down on the sweet fynbos, and there it is, the Harvest Moon, huge yellow and magnificent – but that was all they could remember.

Did we dream it – all of us – in different places? But no, on the table, each one has a small silver box and inside it has a little locket; WhatsApp pings, it’s the Raconteuse, you know, it’s going to be useful one day, she said.

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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.

Denise Farley of Girlie On The Edge’s Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: REMOTE

Click on the Café sign for more #SixSentenceStories

P.S. I am reading ‘The Moon of Autumn: Word Weaving No.1‘ edited by Colleen Chesebro & Jules Paige – I know so many lovely people in WP.

Back in the neighbourhood

Chris Hall55 Comments

The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, was sitting in the black taxi; the cabbie didn’t speak much, and she was happy with that, all he had said was the traffic was busy and where he would take her to the south in the city.

After a moment, she begun to rummage in her enormous bag, noticing her new bold, short and spiky hair in her little mirror; she dug down with her nail clippers, pens and pencils, than finally she found her lucky silver cigarette lighter (the non-functioning prop); she held it tightly, breathing slowly.

The sun was going down, huge and orange-red, over the tall buildings. The taxi swung a right and another left to the park; it was Friday – almost the weekend – so many memories, she thought, smiling.

She was almost there, right in the downtown district; the cabbie slowed down and stopped. The Raconteuse waved a handful of notes and gently slamming the door; then she walked around the narrow road, looking up as it beckoned.

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Denise Farley of Girlie On The Edge’s Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt: NAIL

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