Saturday, 5 March 2016

Packing Up



    No, I'm not about to throw in the towel and give up on my writing; I'm getting ready to move home in a month, or so. I'm moving from the countryside to live in a town and it has been so long since I've been a townie that I can honestly say I'm a little apprehensive.

    However, I haven't had too much time to dwell on my fears, because I'm packing up what seems to be a never-ending collection of belongings.

    Every time I open a cupboard, or a drawer I seem to come across something that brings back wonderful memories. Cards celebrating, special birthdays, wedding day, and anniversaries, all of which I have had many. Except for the wedding days that is.

    But, it is all a little problematic because I'm finding that I'm sitting-down reading the cards, instead of dropping them into the recycling bin as my partner urges me to do.

    However, today is another day and I'm standing proud because I've binned the collection of VHS tapes that have been gathering dust for years in the attic. After all, what use are the tapes without a VCR machine? It packed up and left many years ago.


    Thinking forward to tomorrow, I have a feeling I might not have such a carefree attitude though, because I'm going to clear out the study. HELP!

 

   
 

 

Wednesday, 2 March 2016

Tale of Life and Death

Visitor's Book including signature of Oscar Wilde

    We all know that Sir Walter Scott was a fantastic story teller and it doesn't matter how many years pass, his stories will live on and on. However, books that he had no hand in writing are an interesting read too; they are the visitors books at his home in the Scottish Borders, Abbotsford House.

Visitor's Book including signature of Charles Dickens

    They tell a tale of their own and they illustrate that he was admired by people from all over the world. Most importantly I think for any writer is that he was also respected by his peers. They are truly part of his book of life, or death as the case may be.  Many famous writers such as, Oscar Wilde, Charles Dickens and Charlotte Bronte visited his home after his death and I think that says it all.

Sir Walter Scott's death mask

  #WorldBookDay   www.scottsabbotsford.com/

Sunday, 28 February 2016

The Hideaway

Brig 0'Turk, a village in Scotland

    Writers and artists for centuries have always loved to hide away and do what they do best, create. In Victorian times the Trossachs area of Scotland was a popular haunt for many, including painter, John Everett Millais, art critic, John Ruskin and poet, William Wordsworth.

Brig o'Turk Tea Room, built 1923 approx 

    Last year on my travels I took some photographs in Brig o'Turk a small village, a half-mile from Loch Venacher. Its rural location doesn't mean that nothing ever happens here, it was here that the famous love affair between Effie Gray, teenage-wife of John Ruskin and John Everett Millais took place in the 19th-century. Gray finally having her unconsummated marriage to Ruskin annulled, to marry Millais.

Loch Venacher

    It's a romantic setting for sure, but if love isn't on your mind it's a great place to go walking, cycle, or retreat. The 1923, tea room featured in the second picture has also had its five-minutes of fame in the 1959 film, the 39 Steps, a remake of the Hitchcock classic.    
 
Loch Venacher

     You may not want to do any of the above there, but you can always just stop take in the scenery and have a cup of tea.  

Thursday, 25 February 2016

Saying Good-bye


the phone rang

we listened

firstly, disbelief

then hope

we waited

one week passed

there was no news

giving us more hope

we prayed

the phone rang

there were tears

you were gone

yesterday, it was time to say good-bye

but, we know it's not forever

Sunday, 21 February 2016

Salvation No Kissing Required Excerpt 2


Limbo
    My name’s Dan Pierce; whether or not that’s my birth
name, I don’t really know. You’re asking; why don’t I
know my identity? Good question. But there’s also a good
answer; I’m Dea…d, and my earthbound memories have
been totally wiped out. I’m finding the D word kind of
hard to say, so excuse me. That revelation shocked you,
didn’t it? Well it came as quite a blow to me. In fact, it’s
a bit of a bummer, when you wake up and realize you’re
now a spiritual being.

    I’ve discovered that entry into heaven is no mean feat.
It’s like starting a new college, or university, the powers
that be want to make sure that you’re qualified for the
tasks ahead. When you reach the pearly gates they don’t
say, “Hey you’re dead, come on in.”

    Firstly, your name’s got to be checked against God’s
database. It used to be called the Book of Life; well it still
is, but it’s no longer etched on tablets of stone, or written
on papyrus. No way, Heaven has invested in a high
tech computer system and the gatekeeper accesses the
information via an android tablet. I couldn’t believe it;
the miracles of modern science will never cease to amaze.

    Back to the Book of Life, it’s literally a journal of your
existence. You know, birth name, where you were born,
achievements, disappointments, the good and the bad
things you did; of course, it helps if you’ve led a blemish
free life and I don’t mean a life without zits. Finally, it
states where, when, and how you died. Now this data
allows God and his trusted elders to judge as to whether
you’re celestial material.

    When I arrived several days ago, or was it several
years ago? Time isn’t measured the same way here. Sorry
I’m rambling, put it down to shock. I don’t even know if
it’s relevant as to when I arrived, what is relevant to me
is the fact that I didn’t actually know my name, never
mind how I died. But seemingly, this isn’t so uncommon.

    However, there was a complication in my case and
that was the gatekeeper didn’t know my details either
and he certainly wasn’t expecting me. He had no note of
my arrival, nada. To cut a long story short, I didn’t get
in. I was named Daniel Pierce, for the sake of the records
and whisked away to Limbo, tout de suite.

    That’s when I got the devastating news; take a deep
breath because this is a shocker. I was told that if they
couldn’t establish who I was, or why I was there, I’d be
thrown into the Lake of Fire for a second death. Well
knock me down with a feather, if it wasn’t bad enough
that I’d died already, I was to die again. No right to
appeal, no chance of a reprieve.

    Well that was until Mikey, sorry, I mean Archangel
Michael, arrived in Limbo yesterday, to speak to me and
a bunch of undesirables. He explained that there was a
chance of salvation, all was not lost, we could prove that
we were worth saving.

    He proposed that we enlist in God’s army to help
defeat the Red Rider, aka Satan and his foot soldiers who
are attempting to flex their muscles on Earth. It seems
that Satan has escaped from the burning sulfur lake and
he is determined to seek revenge on God for the years
he has lived in torment. He is proving to be elusive, his
army is growing stronger every day, and Heaven needs
all the help it can get.

    Duh, now who would say no to this opportunity of
redemption? Surprisingly enough, some of my fellow
suspected hoods did decline. They didn’t fancy doing
good deeds, obeying God’s word, or Devil slaying. But I
said, “Bring it on.”

    Sooo, that’s where I’m at in my celestial career. By the
way, I’m now an angelet, which is another name for a
probationary angel. How long will my internship last?
Well how long is a piece of string?

    Guys, I’m about to embark on an important journey
and I could do with good friends like you around. What
I’m saying is, I’d like you to tag along. I’ll need someone
to sound off to. How about it? I believe I’ll be boarding a
bus in Las Vegas tomorrow, headed for Phoenix. I hope
to see you then.

Thursday, 18 February 2016

Salvation No Kissing Required Excerpt 1





Arizona, six months earlier



What’s happening? How did this all spiral out of control?

The sixteen-year-old boy is confused. With the promises
of no rules to obey, eternal life, and sex anytime he
wants, with anyone he so desires; yeah, who wouldn’t
be tempted? Besides, no money need change hands.

However, payment was expected; of course, there was
a charge for Utopia. Deep down, he had known it was all
too good to be true. The price was non-negotiable, no
haggling, no cutting a better deal was possible. What he
had been asked for in exchange was priceless, and he just
wasn’t prepared for it. No, selling his soul to the Devil
wasn’t something he would ever be prepared for and
something he wasn’t going to do.

Therefore, he was now fleeing for his life, he needed
to get away from Wingate and fast. Luckily, for him, the
road was quiet. He had been driving for about an hour,
he had only seen one other vehicle in that time and it was
following close behind. It had joined the road about three
miles back; the driver had not attempted to overtake
and was unlikely to do so now, due to the byroad’s
narrowness. At first he had thought it was a police car
following. Somehow, they may have been alerted that he
had stolen his father’s car, but eventually he had decided
it was unlikely his father would notice it was gone before
morning.

The tailgating car suddenly closes the distance
between them and it’s headlights illuminate the rear-view
mirror of the boy’s vehicle; blinding him on every
turn and twist of the winding road. He presses his foot
down, hard onto the gas pedal, but the car’s response is
sluggish. The young driver is certain that the engine is
protesting at being pushed so hard.

The two cars reach the summit of the climbing road
and the fearful teenager knows that the ground drops
steeply down away from the side. He can’t see the bottom
of the ravine, it’s as though it’s lurking in the bowels of
the earth.
“What the?” the teenage boy yells with surprise,
as the pursuing car gently nudges the rear bumper of
his. He moves forward slightly in his seat, but his seat
belt clicks and saves him from being hurt in any way.

His foot is flat to the floor, but his vehicle continues to
struggle to pull away from its pursuer. The boy grips the
steering wheel as though he’s on a white-knuckle ride at
the fairground. The road widens around the last bend
and will start to drop downhill, towards Highway 87. He
hopes the maniac following him will pass then.

Both cars are now traveling at high speed and the
awkward curves of the road are hard to negotiate. The
inexperienced driver is finding the steering heavy and
he knows he is being pulled closer and closer to the edge
of the precipice. He’s finally approaching the last bend;
he glances in his rear-view, but what he sees causes
him to lose his concentration. Just for a moment, but a
moment too long. The car leaves the road on the bend
and the darkness swallows the teenager up like a whale
consuming a minnow.

The tailing car doesn’t stop; it drives on, no looking
back.


Saturday, 13 February 2016

Today and Forever



I feel your touch and my skin burns
Filling me with excitement and delight

Your lips upon mine send tingling through my body
Like nothing I have ever felt before

The love you and I express, I know is real
A love that we can share today and forever