A damp, drizzly November

“I feel vacant, like there’s no excitement in my life,” Howard lamented.

“You know, Melville wrote about that. He called it ‘a damp, drizzly November in my soul.’ Maybe you should have an adventure, like going to sea,” Carly teased.

“I hate water,” he retorted.

“Well then avoid water.  How about climbing a mountain?”

“Nope, ‘fraid of heights as well,” Howard replied.

“You could get a motorcycle,” she prompted.

“No, too fast.  I’d break my neck.”

“Okay – no water, no heights, no speed, and I already know you don’t drink or smoke.”

“With your life, I’d be in November too.”

(100 Words)

Padre

50 Word Thursday #38

 

 

 

The Hope-Giver

 

Lord, or was it King, Leonas led the remnant of his people down the wilderness road in search of refuge.  It was a giant responsibility for a twenty-three year old.  Yet, leadership was thrust upon him.  The attack had been sudden and unprovoked, but King Hilyan, his uncle had responded quickly and though doomed, he had bought time for the young Lord Leonas to lead away the women, children, and the elderly.

He had and his thirty men-at-arms had formed a blind on a hilltop to allow the column of refugees to gain the long East Road out of the kingdom.  It was from that vantage-point that Leonas had seen his uncle, his older brother, and his cousin Prince Phinis fall.  Now it was up to him; the people’s fates were in his hands.

“Lord Leonas,” an aged widow called. “How long until we find sanctuary?”

Speaking with a regal reserve, the youth responded, “Soon, brave lady, soon.”

She smiled, and took her grandchildren by the hands with a renewed strength.

In his heart he couldn’t be sure he could keep such a promise, but it was his duty to provide hope, and perhaps someday to bring his people home.

(200 Words)

Padre

FOWC with Fandango — Reserve

50 Word Thursday #36

Your Daily Word Prompt – Giant

Your Daily Word Prompt – Remnant

Anticipation

 

“There is something about this place that gives me a tingle, but I can’t explain it,” Miss Wonderly said with a reverent quietness.

“It’s not the building, but the Spirit that fills it,” Brother Taylor said.  “And I feel it too especially at this time of the morning, before . . . ” he trailed off noticing she was nodding with understanding.

“How long till people start arriving?” she whispered, staring at the empty venue before her.

“About twenty minutes,” Brother Taylor replied, and he drew up a wooden chair for her.

Miss Wonderly murmured, “Thank you,” softly as before and sat down on the edge of the chair’s wooden seat.

“Are you nervous?” the smiling man asked.

“No, more excited,” she replied.

“That explains why you did arrive an hour early” he replied.  “It must really mean a lot to you.”

“Well, its not every day that I get baptised,” she said smiling.

(150 words)

Padre

50 Word Thursday – #32

Prompts: Photo above and words – “Miss Wonderly murmured, “Thank you,” softly as before and sat down on the edge of the chair’s wooden seat.” – The Maltese Falcon – Dashiell Hammett.

 

 

Down Town

 

“Look, it’s the dead centre of town,” Marty said.

“That’s an awful pun,” Maddie retorted.

“I would prefer to call it droll,” Marty said with a smirk.

“Whatever you call it, it’s just wrong,” Angela scolded.

“Why are you bickering?” Tony said.  “We’re supposed to be having fun.”

“Well I don’t know why we came this way, anyway,” Maddie said.  “Shouldn’t we have just gone down Parkside to get to the cinema?”

“It’s shorter,” Marty said, “and it let me tell my amazing joke.”

The others moaned, and they passed by the old meeting house, the exact centre of town.

(100 words)

Padre

 

50 Word Thursday Challenge #31

The Flood

 

Image by janrye from Pixabay

Carlton Fogg the mist-maker sat forlornly upon the bench.  His long-time relationship with Dew was over.  How could she cheat on him? he mused. And with Breezy Zephyr of all people.

His heart broken, Carlton sat, his tiny droplets of moisture coalescing around him, not as mist but a torrent.

(50 words)

Padre

50 Word Thursday #30

 

Patanyangu

It was with quite a measure of frustration that the chairman called the extraordinary meeting of the London Adventurers Society to order.

“Gentlemen, I have called you here over a matter of grave concern.  News has arrived that the Explorers Society of London has begun preparations for an expedition to Patanyangu, the last uncharted location on Earth,” Sir Henry announced.

Murmurs of discontent echoed around the table.

“I propose that we mount our own expedition, forthwith, and prevent those blaggards from claiming that crown,” the chairman proclaimed.

This was swiftly seconded, and carried unanimously.

With record breaking speed the preparations were made.  Within a week the LAS expedition, led by Sir Henry, boarded a steam schooner and departed for the South Pacific.

It was a swift and incident free voyage and at last Sir Henry could observe the swaying palms of Patanyangu.  Charts were checked, navigational readings made, and appropriate entries made in the logs.

A small boat was launched and the team made their way ashore in a sheltered lagoon.  It was there that they were greeted by unexpected and terrible sight: a Danish flag.  Next to it flew the pennant of the Scandinavian League of Adventurers.

“Damn,” was all Sir Henry could say.

Meanwhile in the SLA’s exhibits room in Copenhagen several committee members were gathered around the piece of oval volcanic rock recently arrived from Patanyangu.

“Are you sure it’s writing?” Anders Olsen asked.

“Yes,” replied the man with the magnifying glass. “It’s Polynesian for ‘HERE FIRST!'”

[250 words]

Padre

 

50 Word Thursday #19