New Bulland

Pixabay

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Timeran put his usual positive spin on it. “This would be a new beginning,” he said. “We are setting out on a grand adventure, and we will build a community that will be the envy of those who see it.”

Not long afterwards the three vessels which made up the expedition pulled away from the quayside. In them rested the hope and dreams of an entire people. Everything necessary of building a “New Bulland” was there: livestock, seed, and ploughs. The forty-three families were also huddled aboard.

“A new beginning,” Timeran had said, a “New Bulland.” Pamol pondered her father’s words and couldn’t help but question – If New Bulland is going to be so admired by our neighbours, why did our last neighbours drive us away and burn down the last one?

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Padre

Tale Weaver – #308 – New Beginnings

Gateway Gothic

CCC #112

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“That’s so weird,” Amber said as she did a slow spin taking in all of her surroundings.

“What’s weird? Where?” Tracy queried.

“Here – and this puddle’s what’s weird,” Amber replied.

“What are you going on about?”

“Just look at the refection in the puddle. The building in it isn’t anywhere near here.”

Tracy looked into the puddle and then looked around in the same intense manner Amber had.

“No! No way!” Tracy exclaimed.

The pair then knelt next to the puddle and peered in. There before them was a bustling market square with people in Victorian dress carrying out their business.

Tracy hesitantly placed her fingers into the shallow puddle that seemed no more than an inch deep but was able to sink her hand in to her elbow.

Jerking her arm rapidly from the puddle, she shook it and involuntarily shivered.

“No! This isn’t happening,” she said. “I could feel a breeze.”

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Padre

CCC #112

Reflection Time

photo by Diana Aishe via Unsplash

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A time of bridging and transitions

Looking back – a time of reflections

As we go onwards from what has come before

—————-

Padre

Three Line Tales 257

Early Morn

Pixabay

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Early morn and a light fog cloaks the land

Earth crisp with the touch of Winter’s hand

Cold air sharp on nose and lungs

As you venture outwards under the weak sun

Early morn – the starlings begin their day

The frozen meadow underfoot crunches

As you make your way

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Padre

Emerging

Braxton Apana at Unsplash

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Time to emerge and finally come out

We hear they have the vaccine – they talked about

Herd immunity from two quick jabs

That’s a relief ‘cuz I going lock down mad

What’s this – “It could take to the spring?”

Okay, then I crawl back, like in that groundhog thing.

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Padre

Root Beer Revelations

MorgueFIle 2020 October file1781279564609

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“These are weird,” Jamie said holding up the bottle.

“I think so too,” Amy piped in. “Where’s the screw cap? And how do you even open them?”

“You use this opener,” Nanna replied.

“But then how do you close it again?” eight-year-old Jamie queried.

“Well, you don’t really.” his grandmother replied.

“That’s pretty silly,” seven-year-old Amy remarked. “What do you do with the extra? Won’t it all spill?”

“When I was a girl, we shared it,” Nanna replied.

“That’s disgusting,” Amy groaned. “You’ll get germs.”

“You can pour it into different glasses then,” their grandmother suggested.

“Yeah, and about glass. Don’t these break?” Jamie challenged.

“I guess they can, but you know glass is better for the environment than plastic,” Nanna reminded him.

“Do you know this was the only way root beer came when I was your age? If you ask me, it tastes better this way too. But – if it’s too weird for the two of you I guess I will just have to drink it all myself,” Nanna said.

“I guess it’s not that weird,” Jamie said sheepishly.

“No it’s kinda regular,” Amy said. “So we should share it with you like you said, Nanna.”

(198 words)

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Padre

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: 2020: Week #52

Limps To Its End

Pixabay

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Unseen at its start
A year’s turmoil unfolded
Now limps to its end

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Padre

Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille, Dec. 30, 2020 End Of year

A Year To Leave Behind

Josh Hild at Unsplash

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It was a fitting end of the year. As if 2020 didn’t have enough turmoil, New Year’s Eve stuck true to form for the year. Ken had left work at Seven along with his manager, Sally who had just driven off, when he discovered the double whammy of having left his phone in his employee locker, and his car battery flat. To make matters worse, snow had begun to fall and the temperature was dipping to minus three. There was no one else about in the car park so he decided to trudge towards home in hope of flagging someone to make a call to the breakdown service for him. Though he caught the eye of a few drivers, they seemed disinclined to stop much less lower their windows to a stranger in the age of Covid. Ninety minutes later Ken finally arrived home to find his girlfriend frantic with worry at his late arrival. He calmed her and explained the circumstances of his delay. Then taking a very chilled bottle of Prosecco from his bag, he filled two glasses and toasted the end of 2020 and beginning of anything else.

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Padre

Today’s prompt—Use “the end and beginning” in any form of writing

Career Change

Gioele Fazzeri at Pexels

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Rory the Sword-slayer stood looking at the little pile of yellow powder in his hand. It seemed ridiculous that some ground-up flowers could be worth more than gold.

“What’s this called again?” the mighty warrior asked.

“Saffron,” Wilma the Druid responded.

“And it comes from flowers?” Rory asked, seeking confirmation.

“That’s right, Rory,” Alanor the Mage replied.

Rory shook his head in disbelief. Had he had it wrong for all these years? Now what seemed ridiculous to him was that he and his band had spent so much time in dank smelly dungeons, and risked their lives battling Bugbears and Trolls, when mere NPC Farmers held so much wealth.

“Comrades, I have decided to cancel our quest to The Citadel of Quarf. We now have a safer and more profitable endeavour to undertake,” Rory announced.

“What is it?” Debin the Half-elf thief asked greedily.

“Saffron,” Rory replied, pouring the spice back into the small wooden chest.

“What, be farmers?” Debin replied.

“Too much hard work in that,” Rory replied. “I was thinking about raiding florists. Once a Berserker always a Berserker, I always say.”

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Padre

FOWC with Fandango — Ridiculous

Worlds In Your Hand

Annija Veldre

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It’s time to value your education

Take every opportunity to learn

Remember that things like reading

Are not activities to spurn

For knowledge leads to wisdom

And wisdom helps you to grow

And there will always those around you

That will value the things you know

Remember too that employers

Hold the clever in high demand

And with a little education

You can hold whole worlds in your hand

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Padre

Photo Challenge #347