#99 word Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community…

February 14, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about valentines. It can be Valentine’s Day, the exchange, love for another, romance, or friendship. Have a heart and go where the prompt leads!

cropped-carrot-ranch_lc_30july17v2

 

 

working-template-for-ff-challenges106.png

 

First Love

I touched her hand for the first time today

my fourteen-year-old heart sank into my boots

as she flinched away

A look of pain on her face

as if I had burned her with a hot iron

The Valentine card left on her desk

I later noticed it in the class bin

torn in half

I wondered if she was the kind

that didn’t believe in love

Later that day, my heart was doubly wounded

when I watched her kissing a girl.

They thought they were hidden by the tall trees

my love for her would never be returned…

AAAAA

#Writephoto… New #Poetry

Thursday photo prompt: New #writephoto

 

 

Image by scvincent.com

 

 

Faceless

Where are you now, my faceless one?

Do you hide in the sunset, the rain,

the smile of a newborn, the flowers in Spring?

Are you there in the face a neighbour, a stranger?

Are you the face of the new moon as she rises?

Do you bring new hope with every sunrise,

with each lover’s first kiss?

Are you there when my tears overflow?

Do you kiss away the sadness,

And bless each renewed moment of the day?

When I am feeling jaded, do you help me

to notice something new?

There is a saying, that you are never too old to learn.

I believe it, for a gift from the faceless one

each day holds a new surprise.

Something I hadn’t noticed before…

AAAAA

 

#writephoto

The View from my Writing Desk…

 

 

DSCF2978.JPG

Our Gum Tree

 

 

Although we live in a town, it isn’t an inner-city town. Tucked behind the South Downs in Hampshire, we are just 19 miles from the sea.

An ordinary town really, rows of streets spreading out from the town centre with all manner of shops and businesses. The local council keep it tidy and provide us with well-kept trees, bushes and green areas.

Sometimes, if you know where to look, you can find something special here, something that doesn’t quite belong. Hidden among the sprawling streets, small treasures can be found. Little rivers emerge unexpectedly, creating a magical atmosphere. ( I have recently found another such treasure. Post to follow…)

We have such an oddity in our back garden.

We all have trees and bushes in our gardens, but we have a giant gum tree. Far taller than our house, it dwarfs every tree for miles around.

It seems so much supple than other trees and maybe this has something to do with it being a gum tree. The leaves smell faintly of eucalyptus and it has such a graceful way of moving with the wind.

I watch this tree most mornings as I wait for my brain to warm up, but this morning we had the aftermath of Storm Eric.  The wind was fierce, so the view from my window was dramatic. Strong gusts tried to break the tree, viciously pushing and shoving until I thought one would give way. But the branches were so supple they simply danced away, ducking and weaving like a Whirling Dervish until the wind abated.

We could learn a lot from trees. Most of them have been here longer than we have and will remain long after we have gone. They survive, I think because they simply do what they were born to do and they do it well. They take what comes in their stride (so to speak) patiently waiting for the seasons to change or the wind to stop blowing.

A lesson for us all there, I think…

Jaye’s Journal x7

 

Jaye's Journal x12

 

It is the beginning of the week, the sun is shining and it seems warmer. Optimism had lifted its head and was smiling at me.

Then I heard a load of noise outside my house.

Close inspection from the front room window revealed a horde of workmen, clad in bright yellow reflective jackets. All busy moving heavy machinery and what seemed like miles of orange barriers right outside my front door. We would be drowning in noise at any minute.

They say there is no peace for the wicked, but I couldn’t possibly have been bad enough to warrant so many roadworks. This is the third time they have dug up the road outside my house!

Luckily, my office is at the back of the house, reducing the noise to an annoying buzz that I can almost ignore.

~~~~~

As I make a conscious effort to slow down, I have discovered that I am actually noticing so much more these days. Before, in the daily struggle to get more done, I think I was starting to lose sight of the trees.

This week, while editing the first twelve chapters of PayBack, my WIP,  I found not one colossal error but two.

The first stopped me my tracks. How many times had I been going over these chapters? I had already rewritten and restructured them and yet I had my protagonist driving to work several times, and in the same chapters, he was catching a train!

Finding this mistake almost floored me, but I tackled it and moved on.

The next error I found was a plot hole. Not a very big one, but a hole nonetheless.

 

When I edit, I keep a running storyboard, listing events as they happen. This is so important in a mystery thriller novel and usually avoids plot holes. For the first time ever, my system had let me down.

I decided to edit these first chapters again after correcting the first mistake. My writing senses must have been working overtime, for I could feel something was missing. I kept checking my storyboard but it seemed okay.

I never like to ignore my brain when it tries to tell me something, so I decided to compile a new storyboard just for my protagonist (the detective), as I had a feeling this would be where I would find the problem.

And I discovered a missing chapter.

Now, whether this happened during the rewrite, I couldn’t say, but it looked pretty obvious to me that I will need a few good Beta readers when I have finished.

Therefore, I have an important message to anyone who loves reading mystery thrillers. If you could read PayBack for me sometime in March, I will love you forever!

watermark xjj

 

 

Freedom… #Poetry

 

 

waterfall-828948__340.jpg

Image by Pixabay.com

 

 

Freedom

Gipsy winds painted caravans

Horses that shine like shoe polish

A way of life that many frown upon

others secretly wish they had

I am talking about true Romany pride

The open countryside they leave clean

like the homes they live in

to be caged by four walls

a death sentence

much the same as it was

for the American Indians.

I would love to go back to a time

when we take only what we need,

to run wild with the buffalo

and live free with nature.

Not just in small increments.

To chase that open road.

Alas, I can only dream…

aaaaa