Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “chew/choo.” Use one or both, any way you’d like. Have fun!
“Chugachuga choo choo,” little Tommy shuffled up and down the aisle of the passenger car, playing train. His mother watched helplessly from her seat, with her infant daughter. The few other passengers were kindly tolerant of the boy’s antics. When he finally returned to his seat, his mother patiently dusted off his short pants and buckle strap boots. Adjusting her own ruffled cuffs, she reached into the basket she carried and produced a snack for her son.Continue reading “Train to Everywhere – a Stream of Consciousness Tale”→
Di loved the old bucket, most of her free time was spent repairing whatever had gone wrong that week. Still, Dinocar was eclectic with a fun personality. Di left the garage humming softly but turned quickly when she heard the radio playing her late Dad’s favorite song. “Dad ?”
The rock hut was ancient, abandoned long ago and forgotten by mortals and gods alike, it suited Shara’s purpose well. Here she was safe from the judgement of humans. Here, cloaked by nature and surrounded by growing things, she was at peace. Here she was alone, here she was free.
The withies were gathered to be woven into baskets and mats and all manner of useful things. In a few weeks, she would don her disguise, sell her baskets and return with what few items the forest could not provide. And no one would suspect that on the outskirts of their city winter’s frost never touched the vines and green things grew always, in the presence of Shara the Greenwitch.
It had been years since Lavender has crossed the gate. The old concrete silo had been converted into a drawing room decades ago and led to the magic garden. Would Auntie Flora still be there waiting for her? Waiting to see what she had learned.
Lavender passed through the threshold of the drawing room and felt the tingling of wards. No matter, she was invited, a family member no need to leave her power outside the gate. They were all there, Auntie Flora, Sir Reginald, Baby Beatrice, even Reginald’s hounds.
Auntie Flora cried “Look, look Lavender’s back,” as she rushed to her niece.
Lavender threw open her arms and was immediately surrounded by the ethereal mist and bone chilling cold of ghostly embraces. Yes they were here, safe where she had left them while she sought the murdering wizard who had destroyed her family.