Dan is filling in for Linda for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, many thanks Dan and Linda, hope you’re having an awesome time. Here is out prompt for this week
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “ent” “ten” “net.” Use one, use two or use all three (bonus points for using two, double-bonus points for using all three). As Linda would say, use ’em any way you’d like. Enjoy!
It was a grand day for a hunt, Mollifett thought. The rain was gentle and coming straight down dampening the bed of moldering leaves that carpeted the forest floor. The hunting party already held ten quail in the transport net suspended from the floatiferator which hovered silently behind the hunting party.
Mollifett felt very grand on her Carousello Horse, with it’s shining rose gold wings and delicate amber mane. The Carousello Horses were the work of the great designer Dr. Thaddeus Barklay their automatronic structure was so like a live horse as to be indistinguishable but for their exquisite faery appearance. It was a lovely time to be in forest of Shershire. Soon they would find a stag or boar and head back to the castle for the feast.
As her friends and ladies followed along, Mollifett boldly took the lead. Ahead she saw movement, a large animal among the trees. Cautiously it appeared from behind the trees, wreathed in an ephemeral mist, Mollifett realized with a start that it was a Leorsoolee, a Snow Stag. She sat quite entranced until the spell was broken by the sharp twang of a bow string.
Sometimes life comes along and gently raps you on the forehead saying “pay attention.” Other times it grabes a 2×4 and shouts “CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW!” The later has been my life of late (you can read all about it here).
While I certainly have not anticipated or enjoyed the changes brought on by this crisis, let me tell you it has changed us in some ways for the better. You never appreciate something or someone quite so much as when you suddenly realize that you are in imminent danger of losing said person or thing. Suddenly that daily routine you took for granted becomes an acre of diamonds that you know will hold all the riches you could ever hope for, if you could just get it back.
The magical mundanities of daily life, those cherished brushes of hand and lip, the occasional frustration that comes with the comingling of lives, these too are precious.
My life has been a series of glorious triumphs and disastrous failures all wrapped up with the shining ribbon of hope.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “instructions.” Write instructions for anything you know how to do. As detailed or as rambling as you’d like. Enjoy!
I find myself wishing there were instructions for how to navigate the hydrodynamics of chronic illness. Alas, with no directions, illustrations, or instructions to say “insert tab A into slot B” we must negotiate the sometimes treacherous twists and turns based on our own research, the winnowing of advice from others, and often our own gut instinct.Continue reading “Spoonie Instructions – Stream of Consciousness Saturday”→
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”→
“Penny for a posy, penny for a posy mum? Penny for a posy.” The little waif danced about the fountain square hawking her wares. A small tattered basket filled with flowers picked from the roadsides. They were gathered into tattered little bundles with equally tattered and dirty bits of string or rag. Star knew she should keep walking, she had to get back to the inn before she was missed. But the dark circles of the child’s eyes beckoned her, she placed a few coins in the girl’s hand and selected a flower from the basket.Continue reading “Stream of Consciousness Saturday a penny for a posy”→
Grudgingly, Star gave ground. One tiny footstep at a time, she backed out of the range of the aether pistols, her weakened shields glowing dull orange under the barrage. She chanced a fast look to her rear to find Noemei doing the same, wielding her mundane shield with a grace and elegance Star could only envy. When this gaisi battle was over, Star promised herself she would get Noemei to train her with a shield.Continue reading “Grudgingly – a Stream of Consciousness Saturday tale”→
Melantha ground the herbs in her mortar, gently circling the pestle round and round, softly chanting. She added the herbs to boiling rainwater and when the full moon rose, set the potion to strain.
Why? Melantha wondered as she carried her cauldron into the town square. Why was she doing this? The townspeople hated and feared her for the strain of dark magic within her. Why save them? Because she was the only one who could. “As one can, one must,” she repeated her mantra quietly. She left the cauldron in the square and spirited away on noiseless feet.
Watching from the shadows, Melantha smiled to herself and the town folk gathered around the cauldron. There’s not much pride left to a drowning man, nor to a dying town. A young woman was the first to scoop of the deep green liquid and take a cautious sip, feeling no harm, she spooned the potion into her children. Melantha returned to her shack as silently as she had come, the strain of her solitude eased a bit by her own act of compassion.